Poem by Anna Seward

Sonnet 3. From these wild heights, where oft the mists descend

  WRITTEN AT BUXTON IN A RAINY SEASON.

From these wild heights, where oft the mists descend
    In rains, that shroud the sun, and chill the gale,
    Each transient, gleaming interval we hail,
    And rove the naked vallies, and extend
Our gaze around, where yon vast mountains blend
    With billowy clouds, that o'er their summits sail;
    Pondering, how little Nature's charms befriend
    The barren scene, monotonous, and pale.
Yet solemn when the darkening shadows fleet
    Successive o'er the wide and silent hills,
    Gilded by watry sun-beams, then we meet
Peculiar pomp of vision. Fancy thrills,
    And owns there is no scene so rude and bare,
    But Nature sheds or grace or grandeur there.

1. Sonnet 58. Not the slow Hearse, where nod the sable plumes
2. Sonnet 25. Fortunate Vale! exulting Hill! dear Plain!
3. Sonnet 71. While Summer Roses all their glory yield
4. Sonnet 15. The evening shines in May's luxuriant pride
5. Sonnet 11. How sweet to rove, from summer sun-beams veil'd

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