Sonnet XLVI.
Dark as the silent stream beneath the night, Thy funeral glides to Life's eternal home, Child of its narrow house! - how late the bloom, The facile smile, the soft eye's crystal light, Each grace of Youth's gay morn, that charms our sight, Play'd o'er that Form! - now sunk in Death's cold gloom, Insensate! ghastly! - for the yawning tomb, Alas! fit Inmate. - Thus we mourn the blight Of Virgin-Beauty, and endowments rare In their glad hours of promise. - O! when Age Drops, like the o'er-blown, faded rose, tho' dear Its long known worth, no stormy sorrows rage; But swell when we behold, unsoil'd by time, Youth's broken Lily perished in its prime.
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"Dark as the silent stream beneath the night,..."
This evocative piece by Anna Seward, titled "Sonnet XLVI.", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...