The Poetry Corner

Sonnet IX.

By Anna Seward

Seek not, my Lesbia, the sequester'd dale, Or bear thou to its shades a tranquil heart; Since rankles most in solitude the smart Of injur'd charms and talents, when they fail To meet their due regard; - nor e'en prevail Where most they wish to please: - Yet, since thy part Is large in Life's chief blessings, why desert Sullen the world? - Alas! how many wail Dire loss of the best comforts Heaven can grant! While they the bitter tear in secret pour, Smote by the death of Friends, Disease, or Want, Slight wrongs if thy self-valuing soul deplore, Thou but resemblest, in thy lonely haunt, Narcissus pining on the watry shore.