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?

1. Sonnet 21. Why Do I Live
2. Female Fashions for 1799
3. Lines on Hearing it Declared that No Women Were So Handsome as the English
4. Sonnet 4. Why, When I Gaze
5. Sonnet 9. Ye, Who in Alleys Green

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