Samuel Kettell, ed. Specimens of American Poetry. 1829.
By Sonnet VindicatoryWilliam Croswell
N
And Hermits are contented with their cells;
And Students with their pensive citadels;
Maids at the wheel, the Weaver at his loom,
Sit blithe and happy; Bees that soar for bloom,
High as the highest peak of Furness Fells,
Will murmur by the hour in fox-glove bells.
In truth the prison unto which we doom
Ourselves, no prison is; and hence to me,
In sundry moods, ’t was pastime to be bound
Within the sonnet’s scanty plot of ground;
Pleased if some souls (for such there needs must be)
Who ’ve felt the weight of too much liberty,
Should find short solace there, as I have found.