The Poetry Corner

Sonnet LIII. Written In The Spring 1785 On The Death Of The Poet Laureat.

By Anna Seward

The knell of WHITEHEAD tolls! - his cares are past, The hapless tribute of his purchas'd lays, His servile, his Egyptian tasks of praise! - If not sublime his strains, Fame justly plac'd Their power above their work. - Now, with wide gaze Of much indignant wonder, she surveys To the life-labouring oar assiduous haste A glowing Bard, by every Muse embrac'd. - O, WARTON! chosen Priest of Phoebus' choir! Shall thy rapt song be venal? hymn the THRONE, Whether its edicts just applause inspire, Or PATRIOT VIRTUE view them with a frown? What needs for this the golden-stringed Lyre, The snowy Tunic, and the Sun-bright Zone[1]! 1: Ensigns of Apollo's Priesthood.