...poetic register in contrast to his own practice. In vain to me the smiling Mornings shine. And redd'ning Phoebus lifts his golden fire: The birds in vain their amorous descant join: Or chearful fields resume their green attire: These ears, alas! for other notes repine. A different object...

...And redning Phoebus lifts his golden Fire; The Birds in vain their amorous Descant joyn; Or chearful Fields resume their green Attire: These Ears, alas!...different Object do these eyes require. My lonely Anguish melts no Heart, but mine; And in my Breast the imperfect Joys expire. Yet Morning smiles the busy Race...

...composition, and was more than any other man curiously elaborate in the structure of his own poetic diction. In vain to me the smiling mornings shine, And reddening...different object do these eyes require; My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine; And in my breast the imperfect joys expire; Yet morning smiles the busy race...

...overflow of powerful emotions as 'vain8 and 'unthinking' (lL 1-2), invoking the opening of Gray's sonnet: In vain to me the smiling mornings shine. And reddening...fire: The birds in vain their amorous descant join, (U. 1-3, emphasis added)6* As Lonsdale has suggested, the repetition of 'in vain' to describe the poet's...

...which he put in italics, are of 'any value', precisely because they use the direct language of prose: In vain to me the smiling mornings shine, And reddening...different object do these eyes require. My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine; And in my breast the imperfect joys expire. Yet morning smiles the busy race...

...shine,/And reddening Phoebus lifts his golden fire:/The birds in vain their amorous descant join,/Or cheerful fields resume their green attire:/ These ears alas! for other notes repine;M different objecl do these eyes require; /My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine; /And in...

...However, a close reading of Gray's sonnet elucidates Smith's revision of her precursor's technique:30 In vain to me the smiling mornings shine, And reddening...different object do these eyes require. My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine; And in my breast the imperfect joys expire. Yet morning smiles the busy race...