Poem by Anna Seward

Sonnet 9. Seek not, my Lesbia, the sequester'd dale

Seek not, my Lesbia, the sequester'd dale,
    Or bear thou to its shades a tranquil heart;
    Since rankles most in solitude the smart
    Of injur'd charms and talents, when they fail
To meet their due regard;—nor e'en prevail
    Where most they wish to please:—Yet, since thy part
    Is large in Life's chief blessings, why desert
    Sullen the world?—Alas! how many wail
Dire loss of the best comforts Heaven can grant!
    While they the bitter tear in secret pour,
    Smote by the death of Friends, Disease, or Want,
Slight wrongs if thy self-valuing soul deplore,
    Thou but resemblest, in thy lonely haunt,
    Narcissus pining on the watry shore.

1. Sonnet 75. He found her not;—yet much the Poet found
2. Sonnet 44. Rapt Contemplation, bring thy waking dreams
3. Sonnet 90. My hour is not yet come!—these burning eyes
4. Sonnet 85. March, tho' the Hours of promise with bright ray
5. Sonnet 77. O! hast thou seen a vernal Morning bright

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