The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson ::

'Tis past! and now, remorseless Fate,
Thy Victim braves thy direst hate,
My mind resists thy poison'd dart,
And conscious pride sustains my heart;
Behold my placid smiles disclose,
The pang is past that seal'd my woes!

Since now, no more to grief a prey,
My tranquil hours shall glide away;
Since Reason from my sated brain
Shall tear the records of past pain;
Since warring passions sink to rest,
And fierce resentment leaves my breast;
Since from the wreath fond Fancy made,
Hope's transient flow'rs for ever fade;
One proud indignant tear shall prove
The signal of expiring love.
Sweet offspring of long cherish'd woe,
No more thy glittering fount shall flow;
But trembling in its azure cell,
Conceal'd in haughty silence dwell;

196

Or if, perchance, one drop should steal,
The pangs of memory to reveal,
On my cold bosom shalt thou shine,
A peerless gem—on Feeling's shrine!

Now if remorse can touch thy heart,
Or gracious deeds one joy impart;
O, if Reflection turns at last
To all my proud affection past,
Which shar'd each pang that wrung thy breast,
And sooth'd thy wounded mind to rest;
When soft-ey'd Sympathy entwin'd
A feath'ry chain, thy heart to bind;
And with responsive sighs dispell'd
Each wayward passion that rebell'd:
Calming with Friendship's dulcet sounds
The anguish of dark Falsehood's wounds;
When friends were cold, and foes severe,
And smiling Envy stung thine ear;
Who, with meek counsel, bade thee know
The specious garb that veil'd the foe?
And turning from thy breast his wound,
Saw, in strong spells, the mischief bound?
When Fortune, smiling on my lot,
Illum'd with joy my favour'd cot;
When sportive Love a wreath entwin'd,
The graces of my breast to bind;
When Youth rush'd forward to bestow
On my warm lip the ruby's glow;

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When Health spread rapture o'er my cheek,
That bade the blushing roses speak,
And gave my eye the spark divine—
Say, were not all these treasures thine?

When lust'rous summer deck'd my bow'rs,
And hung my couch with rarest flow'rs;
When plenty crown'd my little board,
With all abundant Nature stor'd;
When social Mirth's enliv'ning strain
Mock'd the dull groan of worldly pain;
When e'en Philosophy confess'd
That Love's pure flame could warm the breast;
When Wisdom listen'd as I sung,
To catch new precepts from my tongue;—
Say, did such trivial flatteries move
The heart enslav'd by thee and love?

'Tis past! now Reason's sober light
Steals through the gloom of mental night;
Since Love's fond tale can cheat no more,
And e'en false Hope's bright dream is o'er.

Come, gentle Peace! these eye-lids close
On some blest pallet of repose;
And thou, dear Muse, in pity give
One wreath, to bid my Memory live:
Then will I smile at envious Fate's decree,
Forget my woes, myself, the world, and thee.

University of Virginia Library

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