The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson including many pieces never before published. In Three Volumes |
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XVI. |
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THE ADIEU TO FANCY. INSCRIBED TO THE SAME. |
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The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson | ||
289
THE ADIEU TO FANCY. INSCRIBED TO THE SAME.
When first I knew thee, Fancy's aid
A mine of peerless worth display'd,
A thousand graces hourly stole
In melting visions o'er my soul.
A mine of peerless worth display'd,
A thousand graces hourly stole
In melting visions o'er my soul.
For Fancy guides the shaft of Love,
And bids fantastic visions move
In mystic mazes round the breast,
In Hope's delusive colours dress'd.
And bids fantastic visions move
In mystic mazes round the breast,
In Hope's delusive colours dress'd.
'Tis Fancy wings the Poet's thought,
With classic Taste sublimely fraught;
And bids the fount of Reason flow,
With smooth delight, or ruffled woe.
With classic Taste sublimely fraught;
And bids the fount of Reason flow,
With smooth delight, or ruffled woe.
Full oft the gentle Sylph I've seen,
With soothing smile and sportive mien,
When, wand'ring to her fairy bow'rs,
She bound my grateful breast with flow'rs.
With soothing smile and sportive mien,
When, wand'ring to her fairy bow'rs,
She bound my grateful breast with flow'rs.
290
And oft with flatt'ring Hope she came
To twine a wreath of promis'd Fame;
Yet 'midst the laurel'd gift I found
Full many a thorn my breast to wound.
To twine a wreath of promis'd Fame;
Yet 'midst the laurel'd gift I found
Full many a thorn my breast to wound.
Oh! then she brought, my mind to calm,
Persuasive Friendship's soothing balm;
And Sympathy, with throbbing breast,
In Pity's specious semblance drest.
Persuasive Friendship's soothing balm;
And Sympathy, with throbbing breast,
In Pity's specious semblance drest.
Yet Friendship's beauteous form I found
Would start aghast at Sorrow's wound;
And Sympathy's slow trickling tear
Would cease to flow when Grief was near.
Would start aghast at Sorrow's wound;
And Sympathy's slow trickling tear
Would cease to flow when Grief was near.
Then let me own the tranquil scene,
The constant thought, the smile serene,
And know myself supremely blest!
Deceitful Fancy—take the rest!
The constant thought, the smile serene,
And know myself supremely blest!
Deceitful Fancy—take the rest!
The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson | ||