Anna Seward (Анна Сьюард)

Sonnet 11. How sweet to rove, from summer sun-beams veil'd

How sweet to rove, from summer sun-beams veil'd,
    In gloomy dingles; or to trace the tide
    Of wandering brooks, their pebbly beds that chide;
    To feel the west-wind cool refreshment yield,
That comes soft creeping o'er the flowery field,
    And shadow'd waters; in whose bushy side
    The Mountain-Bees their fragrant treasure hide
    Murmuring; and sings the lonely Thrush conceal'd!—
Then, Ceremony, in thy gilded halls,
    Where forc'd and frivolous the themes arise,
    With bow and smile unmeaning, O! how palls
At thee, and thine, my sense!—how oft it sighs
    For leisure, wood-lanes, dells, and water-falls;
    And feels th' untemper'd heat of sultry skies!

1. Sonnet 45. From Possibility's dim chaos sprung
2. Sonnet 13. Thou child of Night, and Silence, balmy Sleep
3. Sonnet 53. The knell of Whitehead tolls!—his cares are past
4. Sonnet 15. The evening shines in May's luxuriant pride
5. Sonnet 87. Round Cleon's brow the Delphic laurels twine

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