The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson including many pieces never before published. In Three Volumes |
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 | III. |
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STANZAS.
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 | The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson |  |
264
STANZAS.
[The chilling gale that nipp'd the rose]
The chilling gale that nipp'd the rose,
Now murm'ring sinks to soft repose;
The shadowy vapours sail away
Upon the silv'ry floods of day;
Health breathes on ev'ry face I see;
But, ah! she breathes no more on me!
Now murm'ring sinks to soft repose;
The shadowy vapours sail away
Upon the silv'ry floods of day;
Health breathes on ev'ry face I see;
But, ah! she breathes no more on me!
The butterfly, with rain-bow wing,
Flits round the blushing front of spring;
And if a gloomy hour appears,
Fans her warm breast, and sips her tears.
Love wakes the feather'd choir to glee;
But, ah! they wake no more for me!
Flits round the blushing front of spring;
And if a gloomy hour appears,
Fans her warm breast, and sips her tears.
Love wakes the feather'd choir to glee;
But, ah! they wake no more for me!
The jasmine wafts its perfume meek,
To kiss the rose's glowing cheek;
Pale twilight sheds her vagrant show'rs
To wake aurora's infant flow'rs;
May smiles their native charms to see;
But, ah! she smiles no more on me!
To kiss the rose's glowing cheek;
Pale twilight sheds her vagrant show'rs
To wake aurora's infant flow'rs;
May smiles their native charms to see;
But, ah! she smiles no more on me!
265
The sea-boy, by the tempest's roar,
Dash'd on some rude and rocky shore,
Sees hope, amidst the furious foam,
That points towards his distant home!
But I, alas! shall never see
Hope's radiant beam reflect on me!
Dash'd on some rude and rocky shore,
Sees hope, amidst the furious foam,
That points towards his distant home!
But I, alas! shall never see
Hope's radiant beam reflect on me!
E'en Zembla's freezing sons, forlorn,
Await their long-expected morn;
Swift to their icy cliffs they run,
To greet, at length, the tardy sun!
But dark despair shall never see
The dawn of comfort shine on me!
Await their long-expected morn;
Swift to their icy cliffs they run,
To greet, at length, the tardy sun!
But dark despair shall never see
The dawn of comfort shine on me!
Then, far I'll wander, where no ray
Breaks thro' the gloom of doubtful day;
There will I court the midnight hour,
The ling'ring dawn, the wintry show'r;
For cold and comfortless shall be
Each future scene ordain'd for me!
Breaks thro' the gloom of doubtful day;
There will I court the midnight hour,
The ling'ring dawn, the wintry show'r;
For cold and comfortless shall be
Each future scene ordain'd for me!
| The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson | |