Anna Seward (Анна Сьюард)

Sonnet 38. If he whose bosom with no transport swells

 WINTER.

If he whose bosom with no transport swells
    In vernal airs and hours commits the crime
    Of sullenness to Nature, 'gainst the Time,
    And its great Ruler, he alike rebels
Who seriousness and pious dread repels,
    And aweless gazes on the faded Clime,
    Dim in the gloom, and pale in the hoar rime
    That o'er the bleak and dreary prospect steals.—
Spring claims our tender, grateful, gay delight;
    Winter our sympathy and sacred fear;
    And sure the Hearts that pay not Pity's rite
O'er wide calamity; that careless hear
    Creation's wail, neglect, amid her blight,
    The solemn lesson of the ruin'd Year.

1. Sonnet 36. Now on hills, rocks, and streams, and vales, and plains
2. Sonnet 65. Marcellus, since the ardors of my strain
3. Sonnet 56. What bashful wildness in those crystal eyes
4. Sonnet 53. The knell of Whitehead tolls!—his cares are past
5. Sonnet 42. Lo! the Year's final Day!—Nature performs

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