The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson including many pieces never before published. In Three Volumes |
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| II. |
 | III. |
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MADRIGAL. |
 | The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson |  |
280
MADRIGAL.
Love was a little blooming boy,
Fond, innocent, and true;
His ev'ry smile was fraught with joy,
And ev'ry joy was new!
Till stealing from his mother's side,
The urchin lost his way;
And wand'ring far o'er deserts wide,
Thus, weeping, pour'd his lay:
Fond, innocent, and true;
His ev'ry smile was fraught with joy,
And ev'ry joy was new!
Till stealing from his mother's side,
The urchin lost his way;
And wand'ring far o'er deserts wide,
Thus, weeping, pour'd his lay:
“O time! I'll dress thy locks of snow
“With wreaths of fragrant flow'rs;
“And all that rapture can bestow
“Shall deck thy fleeting hours:
“But for one day, one little day,
“Thy wings in pity spare;
“That I may homeward bend my way,
“For all my wreaths are there.”
“With wreaths of fragrant flow'rs;
“And all that rapture can bestow
“Shall deck thy fleeting hours:
“But for one day, one little day,
“Thy wings in pity spare;
“That I may homeward bend my way,
“For all my wreaths are there.”
281
Time, cheated by his tears and sighs,
The wily god confess'd;
When, soaring to his native skies,
He sought his mother's breast!
Short was his bliss! the treach'rous boy
Was hurl'd from clime to clime,
And found, amidst his proudest joy,
He'd still the wings of time!
The wily god confess'd;
When, soaring to his native skies,
He sought his mother's breast!
Short was his bliss! the treach'rous boy
Was hurl'd from clime to clime,
And found, amidst his proudest joy,
He'd still the wings of time!
| The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson | |