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Mary Robinson (Мэри Робинсон)


Sonnet 7. Come, Reason, Come!


Come, Reason, come! each nerve rebellious bind,
Lull the fierce tempest of my fev’rish soul;
Come, with the magic of thy meek controul,
And check the wayward wand’rings of my mind:
Estrang’d from thee, no solace can I find,
O’er my rapt brain, where pensive visions stole,
Now passion reigns and stormy tumults roll--
So the smooth Sea obeys the furious wind!
In vain Philosophy unfolds his store,
O’erwhelm’d is ev’ry source of pure delight;
Dim is the golden page of wisdom’s lore;
All nature fades before my sick’ning sight:
For what bright scene can fancy’s eye explore,
’Midst dreary labyrinths of mental night?



Mary Robinson's other poems:
  1. Ode to Melancholy
  2. Ode to Valour
  3. Sonnet 9. Ye, Who in Alleys Green
  4. Sonnet 24. O Thou! Meek Orb
  5. Stanzas Written under an Oak in Windsor Forest


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