Helen Maria Williams - Sonnet To Expression lyrics

Expression, child of soul! I fondly trace Thy strong enchantments, when the poet's lyre, The painter's pencil catch thy sacred fire, And beauty wakes for thee her touching grace- But from this frighted glance thy form avert When horrors check thy tear, thy struggling sigh, When frenzy rolls in thy impa**ion'd eye, Or guilt sits heavy on thy lab'ring heart- Nor ever let my shudd'ring fancy bear The wasting groan, or view the pallid look Of him[A] the Muses lov'd-when hope forsook His spirit, vainly to the Muses dear! For charm'd with heav'nly song, this bleeding breast, Mourns the blest power of verse could give despair no rest.-