Original sonnets on various subjects; and odes paraphrased from Horace.

by Anna Seward.

PREFACE.

Whatever other excellence may be wanting in the ensuing Poems, they are, with only nine exceptions out of the hundred, strictly Sonnets.

Those nine vary only from the rules of the legitimate Sonnet in that they rhime _three_, instead of _four_ times in the _first_ part. The pause is in _them_, as in the _rest_, variously placed through the course of the verses; and thus they bear no more resemblance than their a.s.sociates, to those minute Elegies of twelve alternate rhimes, closing with a couplet, which a.s.sume the name of Sonnet, without any other resemblance to that order of Verse, except their limitation to fourteen lines. I never found the quadruple rhimes injurious to the general expression of the sense, but in the excepted instances. When it is considered how few they are in so _large_ a number, I flatter myself the idea will vanish that our language is not capable of doing justice to the _regular_ Sonnet.

From the Supplement to the Gentleman's Magazine for 1786, I shall insert Mr. White's definition of the nature and perfection of this species of Verse, because I think it explains them with justness and precision.

"Little Elegies, consisting of four stanzas and a couplet, are no more Sonnets than they are Epic Poems. The Sonnet is of a particular and _arbitrary_ construction; it partakes of the nature of Blank Verse, by the lines running into each other at proper intervals. Each line of the first eight, rhimes four times, and the order in which those rhimes should fall is decisive. For the ensuing six there is more licence; they may, or may not, at pleasure, close with a couplet.

"Of Milton's English Sonnets, only that to Oliver Cromwell ends with a couplet, but the single instance is a sufficient precedent; however, in three out of his five Italian ones, the concluding lines rhime to each other.

"The style of the Sonnet should be nervous, and, where the subject will with propriety bear elevation, sublime; with which, simplicity of language is by no means incompatible. If the subject is familiar and domestic, the style should, though affectionate, be nervous; though plain, be energetic. The great models of perfection, for the sublime and domestic Sonnet, are those of Milton's, 'To the Soldier to spare his Dwelling-place,' and 'To Mr. Laurence.'

"The Sonnet is certainly the most difficult species of poetic composition; but difficulty, well subdued, is excellence. Mrs. Smith says she has been told that the regular Sonnet suits not the nature or genius of our language. Surely this a.s.sertion cannot be demonstrated, and therefore was not worth attention.

"Out of eighteen English Sonnets, written by Milton, four are bad.

The rest, though they are not free from certain hardnesses, have a pathos and greatness in their simplicity, sufficient to endear the legitimate Sonnet to every Reader of just taste. They possess a _characteristic_ grace, which can never belong to three elegiac stanzas, closing with a couplet."

I have pleasure in quoting the preceding Dissertation on the SONNET, conscious that there is no order of Verse, upon which so much erroneous opinion has gone forth, and of whose beauties the merely common Reader is so insensible. But when the Author of this just Treatise says of the a.s.sertion, that the legitimate Sonnet suits not our language, "its truth cannot be demonstrated," he should perhaps rather have observed, that its fallacy is proved by the great number of beautiful legitimate Sonnets, which adorn our National Poetry, not only by Milton, but by many of our _modern_ Poets.

Of the four of Milton's, justly disapproved by Mr. White, there is one evidently a _burlesque_, written in sport. It begins,

"A book was writ of late, call'd Tetrachordon."

Doctor Johnson has the disingenuousness, in his Folio Dictionary, under the word SONNET, to cite _that_ Sonnet at full length, as a specimen of Milton's style in this kind of Poetry. Johnson disliked Sonnets, and he equally disliked Blank Verse, and Odes. It is in vain to combat the prejudice of splenetic aversion. The Sonnet is an highly valuable species of Verse; the best vehicle for a single detached thought, an elevated, or a tender sentiment, and for a succinct description. The compositions of that order now before the Reader, ensued from time to time, as various circ.u.mstances impressed the heart, or the imagination of their Author, and as the aweful, or lovely scenes of Nature, arrested, or allured her eye.

TO MISS SEWARD,

ON READING HER CENTENARY OF SONNETS.

Dear are the forceful energies of Song, For they do swell the spring-tide of the heart With rosier currents, and impel along The life-blood freely:--O! they can impart Raptures ne'er dreamt of by the sordid throng Who barter human feeling at the mart Of pamper'd selfishness, and thus do wrong Imperial Nature of her prime desert.-- SEWARD! _thy_ strains, beyond the critic-praise Which may to arduous skill its meed a.s.sign, Can the pure sympathies of _spirit_ raise To bright Imagination's throne divine; And proudly triumph, with a generous strife, O'er all the "flat realities of life."

High Street, Marybone, Feb. 1, 1799.

T. PARK.

VERSES

BY THE REV. H. F. CAREY,

ON READING THE FOLLOWING PARAPHRASES.

Hear, honor'd Flaccus, from the vocal shades Where with gay Prior, and thy [1]Teian Peer Thou wanderest thro' the amaranthine glades, While social joys the devious walk endear!

Or whether in the bright Elysian bowers, Where the tall vine its lavish mantle spreads, Thou crown'st the goblet with unfading flowers, Sooth'd by the murmuring stream, that labors thro' the meads.

Hear, happy Bard!--to wake thy silent lyre Our British Muse, our charming Seward, deigns!-- With more harmonious tones, more sportive fire Beneath her hand arise the potent strains.

Then, as thou hear'st the sweet Enthusiast, own Thy fancy's various florets look'd less gay When kiss'd by bright Italia's ardent sun, Than now their hues expand in Albion's milder ray!

H. F. CAREY.

1: Anacreon.

SONNETS.

SONNET I.

When Life's realities the Soul perceives Vain, dull, perchance corrosive, if she glows With rising energy, and open throws The golden gates of Genius, she achieves His fairy clime delighted, and receives In those gay paths, deck'd with the thornless rose, Blest compensation.--Lo! with alter'd brows Lours the false World, and the fine Spirit grieves; No more young Hope tints with her light and bloom The darkening Scene.--Then to ourselves we say, Come, bright IMAGINATION, come! relume Thy orient lamp; with recompensing ray Shine on the Mind, and pierce its gathering gloom With all the fires of intellectual Day!

SONNET II.

The Future, and its gifts, alone we prize, Few joys the Present brings, and those alloy'd; Th' expected fulness leaves an aching void; But HOPE stands by, and lifts her sunny eyes That gild the days to come.--She still relies The Phantom HAPPINESS not thus shall glide _Always_ from life.--Alas!--yet ill betide Austere Experience, when she coldly tries In distant roses to discern the thorn!

Ah! is it wise to antic.i.p.ate our pain?

_Arriv'd_, it then is soon enough to mourn.

Nor call the dear Consoler false and vain, When yet again, shining through april-tears, Those fair enlight'ning eyes beam on advancing Years.

SONNET III.

WRITTEN AT BUXTON IN A RAINY SEASON.