Poem by Anna Seward

Sonnet 81. My Angel Sister, tho' thy lovely form

ON A LOCK OF MISS SARAH SEWARD'S HAIR
WHO DIED IN HER TWENTIETH YEAR.

My Angel Sister, tho' thy lovely form
    Perish'd in Youth's gay morning, yet is mine
    This precious Ringlet!—still the soft hairs shine,
    Still glow the nut-brown tints, all bright and warm
With sunny gleam!—Alas! each kindred charm
    Vanish'd long since; deep in the silent shrine
    Wither'd to shapeless Dust!—and of their grace
    Memory alone retains the faithful trace.—
Dear Lock, had thy sweet Owner liv'd, ere now
    Time on her brow had faded thee!—My care
    Screen'd from the sun and dew thy golden glow;
And thus her early beauty dost thou wear,
    Thou all of that fair Frame my love cou'd save
    From the resistless ravage of the Grave!

1. Sonnet 78. Sophia tempts me to her social walls
2. Sonnet 89. Yon late but gleaming Moon, in hoary light
3. Sonnet 17. Ah! why have I indulg'd my dazzled sight
4. Sonnet 36. Now on hills, rocks, and streams, and vales, and plains
5. Sonnet 68. Well it becomes thee, Britain, to avow

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