Book contents
- Frontmatter
- Contents
- List of Poets and Years
- List of Poets and Volumes
- Preface
- Acknowledgements
- Introduction
- Suggested Further Reading
- Changing Times
- Textual Notes 1836–1850
- 1836
- 1837
- 1838
- 1839
- 1840
- 1841
- 1842
- 1843
- 1844
- 1845
- 1846
- 1847
- 1848
- 1849
- 1850
- Sources – Volume I
- Index of Poets and Sonnet Titles – Volume I
- Index of Poets and Sonnet First Lines – Volume I
- Index of Sonnet Titles – Volume I
- Index of Sonnet First Lines – Volume I
- Frontmatter
- Contents
- List of Poets and Years
- List of Poets and Volumes
- Preface
- Acknowledgements
- Introduction
- Suggested Further Reading
- Changing Times
- Textual Notes 1836–1850
- 1836
- 1837
- 1838
- 1839
- 1840
- 1841
- 1842
- 1843
- 1844
- 1845
- 1846
- 1847
- 1848
- 1849
- 1850
- Sources – Volume I
- Index of Poets and Sonnet Titles – Volume I
- Index of Poets and Sonnet First Lines – Volume I
- Index of Sonnet Titles – Volume I
- Index of Sonnet First Lines – Volume I
Summary
Ebenezer Elliott (1781–1849)
Although dated 1848, this sonnet sequence was not published until 1876.
The Year of Seeds
1848
To Willoughby Wood, Esq.,
Deploring its unworthiness the more, because excellence alone can harmonize with worth like his; and although his brother foxhunters will marvel why such a composition should be addressed to one of them;—I dedicate this cycle of revolutionary sonnets.
Toy of the Titans! Tiny Harp! again
I quarrel with the order of thy strings,
Establish'd by the law of sonnet-kings,
And used by giants who do nought in vain.
Was Petrarch, then mistaken in the strain
That charms Italia? Were they tasteless things
That Milton wrought? And are they mutterings
Untuneful, that pay Wordsworth with pleased pain?
No. But I see that tyrants come of slaves;
That states are won by rush of robbers' steel;
And millions starved and tortured to their graves,
Because as they are taught men think and feel;
Therefore, I change the sonnet's slavish notes
For cheaper music, suited to my thoughts.
Far uplands, gleaming suddenly, advance;
And under the broad moon their farthest snows
Shine like the sunbright lakes of new-found lands;
While from her forehead she her dark hair throws,
And (lord of midnight,) the rapt poet stands
Mute as the Roman, from the shore of France
Gazing on Britain o'er the virgin sea;
And weaving then the fates that were to be,
For generations, times, and climes, and strands,
Unknown and unconceived. Oh, unborn Year!
- Type
- Chapter
- Information
- The Anthem Anthology of Victorian Sonnets , pp. 206 - 228Publisher: Anthem PressPrint publication year: 2011