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Poem by Mary Robinson


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


Mary Robinson's other poems:
  1. Sonnet 9. Ye, Who in Alleys Green
  2. Sonnet 42. Oh! Canst Thou Bear
  3. Sonnet 23. To Aetna’s Scorching Sands
  4. The Fugitive
  5. Female Fashions for 1799


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