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Poem by Anna Seward

Sonnet 90. My hour is not yet come!these burning eyes


My hour is not yet come!these burning eyes
    Have not yet look'd their last!else, 'mid the roar
    Of this wild Storm, what gloomy joy to pour
    My freed, exhaling Soul!sublime to rise,
Rend the conflicting clouds, inflame the skies,
    And lash the torrents!Bending to explore
    Our evening seat, my straining eye once more
    Roves the wide watry Waste;but nought descries
Save the pale Flood, o'erwhelming as it strays.
    Yet Oh! lest my remorseless Fate decree
    That all I love, with life's extinguish'd rays
Sink from my soul, to soothe this agony,
    To balm that life, whose loss may forfeit thee,
    Come dear remembrance of departed Days!

Anna Seward

Anna Seward's other poems:
  1. Sonnet 45. From Possibility's dim chaos sprung
  2. Sonnet 15. The evening shines in May's luxuriant pride
  3. Sonnet 87. Round Cleon's brow the Delphic laurels twine
  4. Sonnet 56. What bashful wildness in those crystal eyes
  5. Sonnet 28. O, Genius! does thy Sun-resembling beam

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