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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ANACREONTIC.
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 | The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson |  |
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ANACREONTIC.
[You say, my love, the drifted snow]
You say, my love, the drifted snow
Around our ivy roof is flying;
Why, what care I? our bosoms glow,
And love still smiles, the storm defying!
Love shall no angry tempest fear,
Tho' frowning skies the hail may scatter;
For still our guardian god is near,
Should howling blasts our hovel shatter.
Around our ivy roof is flying;
Why, what care I? our bosoms glow,
And love still smiles, the storm defying!
Love shall no angry tempest fear,
Tho' frowning skies the hail may scatter;
For still our guardian god is near,
Should howling blasts our hovel shatter.
Let icy bosoms freeze, while shrill
The north-wind blows around our dwelling;
Our bosoms know the glowing thrill,
And still with melting joys are swelling!
The hollow gust that passes by,
We scarcely hear, no danger fearing;
Yet love's most soft and murmurr'd sigh
Shall speak in accents sweetly cheering.
The north-wind blows around our dwelling;
Our bosoms know the glowing thrill,
And still with melting joys are swelling!
The hollow gust that passes by,
We scarcely hear, no danger fearing;
Yet love's most soft and murmurr'd sigh
Shall speak in accents sweetly cheering.
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Our faggot fire shall brighter blaze,
Our bed of down invite to slumber;
And, 'till the morn shall spread its rays,
Time shall delicious moments number.
See the dull flame our taper shows,
How faint it burns!—well! let it quiver;
The torch of love unwasted glows,
And still shall glow as bright as ever!
Our bed of down invite to slumber;
And, 'till the morn shall spread its rays,
Time shall delicious moments number.
See the dull flame our taper shows,
How faint it burns!—well! let it quiver;
The torch of love unwasted glows,
And still shall glow as bright as ever!
| The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson | |