The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson including many pieces never before published. In Three Volumes |
 | I. |
 | II. |
STANZAS.
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| III. |
 | The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson |  |
246
STANZAS.
[The savage hunter, who afar]
The savage hunter, who afar,
On some rude mountain's pathless height,
Sees in the west the twilight star
Just peering on the brow of night,
O'er cliffs of ice, or plains of snow,
Still bends his long and toilsome way,
And, as he tempts the famish'd foe,
Anticipates the joys of day.
On some rude mountain's pathless height,
Sees in the west the twilight star
Just peering on the brow of night,
O'er cliffs of ice, or plains of snow,
Still bends his long and toilsome way,
And, as he tempts the famish'd foe,
Anticipates the joys of day.
For he, by Hope inspir'd, surveys
The moon's wan lustre gild the dome
That on some jutting point displays,
Oh! blest retreat! his cavern'd home:
Where, when the journeying sun shall fade,
And cold oblivion's reign return,
The torch of Love shall chear the shade,
And midst the frozen desart burn.
The moon's wan lustre gild the dome
That on some jutting point displays,
Oh! blest retreat! his cavern'd home:
Where, when the journeying sun shall fade,
And cold oblivion's reign return,
The torch of Love shall chear the shade,
And midst the frozen desart burn.
247
For love can warm the shiv'ring breast,
And bid Siberian fierceness sigh;
Make flinty caves the couch of rest,
And mark with joy the frowning sky.
But I, who taste no pleasing dreams
To smooth the paths of endless care,
Still darkness know 'midst sunny beams,
And find in bow'rs of bliss, Despair!
And bid Siberian fierceness sigh;
Make flinty caves the couch of rest,
And mark with joy the frowning sky.
But I, who taste no pleasing dreams
To smooth the paths of endless care,
Still darkness know 'midst sunny beams,
And find in bow'rs of bliss, Despair!
| The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson | |