Poem by Anna Seward

Sonnet 97. Thou silent Door of our eternal sleep

    TO A COFFIN-LID.

Thou silent Door of our eternal sleep,
    Sickness, and pain, debility, and woes,
    All the dire train of ills Existence knows,
    Thou shuttest out FOR EVER!—Why then weep
This fix'd tranquillity,—so long!—so deep!
    In a dear Father's clay-cold Form?—where rose
    No energy, enlivening Health bestows,
    Thro' many a tedious year, that us'd to creep
In languid deprivation; while the flame
    Of intellect, resplendent once confess'd,
    Dark, and more dark, each passing day became.
Now that angelic lights the Soul invest,
    Calm let me yield to thee a joyless Frame,
    Thou silent Door of everlasting Rest.

1. Sonnet 7. By Derwent's rapid stream as oft I stray'd
2. Sonnet 1. When Life's realities the Soul perceives
3. Sonnet 31. O, EVER DEAR! thy precious, vital powers
4. Sonnet 58. Not the slow Hearse, where nod the sable plumes
5. Sonnet 44. Rapt Contemplation, bring thy waking dreams

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