Siddons! the Muse, for many a joy refin'd, <br />Feelings which ever seem too swiftly fled- <br />For those delicious tears she loves to shed, <br />Around thy brow the wreath of praise would bind- <br />But can her feeble notes thy praise unfold? <br />Repeat the tones each changing passion gives, <br />Or mark where nature in thy action lives, <br />Where, in thy pause, she speaks a pang untold! <br />When fierce ambition steels thy daring breast, <br />When from thy frantic look our glance recedes; <br />Or oh, divine enthusiast! when opprest <br />By anxious love, that eye of softness pleads- <br />The sun-beam all can feel, but who can trace <br />The instant light, and catch the radiant grace!<br /><br />Helen Maria Williams<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-to-mrs-siddons/
