The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson including many pieces never before published. In Three Volumes |
 | I. |
|
|
|
ODE TO THE SNOW-DROP. |
|
| I. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| II. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| III. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| IV. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| V. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| II. |
| III. |
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
 | The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson |  |
123
ODE TO THE SNOW-DROP.
The Snow-drop, Winter's timid child,
Awakes to life, bedew'd with tears,
And flings around its fragrance mild;
And where no rival flow'rets bloom,
Amidst the bare and chilling gloom,
A beauteous gem appears!
Awakes to life, bedew'd with tears,
And flings around its fragrance mild;
And where no rival flow'rets bloom,
Amidst the bare and chilling gloom,
A beauteous gem appears!
All weak and wan, with head inclin'd,
Its parent-breast the drifted snow,
It trembles, while the ruthless wind
Bends its slim form; the tempest lowers,
Its em'rald eye drops crystal show'rs
On its cold bed below.
Its parent-breast the drifted snow,
It trembles, while the ruthless wind
Bends its slim form; the tempest lowers,
Its em'rald eye drops crystal show'rs
On its cold bed below.
124
Poor flow'r! on thee the sunny beam
No touch of genial warmth bestows!
Except to thaw the icy stream
Whose little current purls along,
And whelms thee as it flows.
No touch of genial warmth bestows!
Except to thaw the icy stream
Whose little current purls along,
And whelms thee as it flows.
The night-breeze tears thy silky dress,
Which deck'd with silv'ry lustre shone;
The morn returns, not thee to bless.—
The gaudy Crocus flaunts its pride,
And triumphs where its rival—died
Unshelter'd and unknown!
Which deck'd with silv'ry lustre shone;
The morn returns, not thee to bless.—
The gaudy Crocus flaunts its pride,
And triumphs where its rival—died
Unshelter'd and unknown!
No sunny beam shall gild thy grave,
No bird of pity thee deplore:
There shall no verdant branches wave,
For spring shall all her gems unfold,
And revel 'midst her beds of gold,
When thou art seen no more!
No bird of pity thee deplore:
There shall no verdant branches wave,
For spring shall all her gems unfold,
And revel 'midst her beds of gold,
When thou art seen no more!
Where'er I find thee, gentle flow'r,
Thou still art sweet, and dear to me!
For I have known the cheerless hour,
Have seen the sun-beams cold and pale,
Have felt the chilling, wint'ry gale,
And wept, and shrunk like thee!
Thou still art sweet, and dear to me!
For I have known the cheerless hour,
Have seen the sun-beams cold and pale,
Have felt the chilling, wint'ry gale,
And wept, and shrunk like thee!
| The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson | |