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 15. The evening shines in May's luxuriant pride
2. Sonnet 45. From Possibility's dim chaos sprung
3. Sonnet 48. Now young-ey'd Spring, on gentle breezes borne
4. Sonnet 13. Thou child of Night, and Silence, balmy Sleep
5. Sonnet 53. The knell of Whitehead tolls!—his cares are past

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