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181
SONNET VII.
[Ye overflowings of a restless heart]
1796.
Ye overflowings of a restless heart,
Why thus torment me? wishes undefin'd,
Why through my breast so vehemently dart,
Waking convulsed commotions of the mind?
Oh! stubborn feelings, why do ye refuse
The high-wrought intercourse of souls to bless?
Why pampering lonesome anguish idly muse,
Or mutter workings of obscure distress?
Almighty Parent! what a thing am I!
Shuddering with ecstacy, yet dumb the while!
Thou, only Thou, with chaos-piercing eye,
Canst see me as I am! My Father, rise
Sublime in love, and with thy calming smile
Hush Thou my spirit's stormy phantasies!
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