Poem by Anna Seward

Sonnet 33. Last night her Form the hours of slumber bless'd

Last night her Form the hours of slumber bless'd
    Whose eyes illumin'd all my youthful years.—
    Spirit of dreams, at thy command appears
    Each airy Shape, that visiting our rest,
Dismays, perplexes, or delights the breast.
    My pensive heart this kind indulgence cheers;
    Bliss, in no waking moment now possess'd,
    Bliss, ask'd of thee with Memory's thrilling tears,
Nightly I cry, how oft, alas! in vain,
    Give, by thy powers, that airy Shapes controul,
    Honora to my visions!—ah! ordain
Her beauteous lip may wear the smile that stole,
    In years long fled, the sting from every pain!
    Show her sweet face, ah show it to my soul!

1. Sonnet 53. The knell of Whitehead tolls!—his cares are past
2. Sonnet 65. Marcellus, since the ardors of my strain
3. Sonnet 56. What bashful wildness in those crystal eyes
4. Sonnet 38. If he whose bosom with no transport swells
5. Sonnet 36. Now on hills, rocks, and streams, and vales, and plains

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