Poem by Anna Seward

Sonnet 30. That song again!—its sounds my bosom thrill

That song again!—its sounds my bosom thrill,
    Breathe of past years, to all their joys allied;
    And, as the notes thro' my sooth'd spirits glide,
    Dear Recollection's choicest sweets distill,
Soft as the Morn's calm dew on yonder hill,
    When slants the Sun upon its grassy side,
    Tinging the brooks that many a mead divide
    With lines of gilded light; and blue, and still,
The distant lake stands gleaming in the vale.
    Sing, yet once more, that well-remember'd strain,
    Which oft made vocal every passing gale
In days long fled, in Pleasure's golden reign,
    The youth of chang'd Honora!—now it wears
    Her air—her smile—spells of the vanish'd years!

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

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