Poem by Mary Robinson

Sonnet to the Memory of Miss Maria Linley

So bends beneath the storm yon balmy flow’r,
Whose spicy blossoms once perfum’d the gale;
So press’d with tears reclines yon lily pale,
Obedient to the rude and beating show’r. 

Still is the LARK, that hov’ring o’er yon spray,
With jocund carol usher’d in the morn;
And mute the NIGHTINGALE, whose tender lay
Melted the feeling mind with sounds forlorn: 

More sweet, MARIA, was thy plaintive strain!
That strain is o’er; but mem’ry ne’er shall fade,
When erst it cheer’d grey twilight’s dreary shade,
And charm’d the sorrow-stricken soul from pain;
STILL, STILL, melodious maid, thy dulcet song
Shall breathe, immortal, on an ANGEL’S TONGUE!

1. Sonnet 38. Oh Sigh
2. Sonnet 41. Yes, I Will Go
3. Ode to Envy
4. Male Fashions for 1799
5. Sonnet 28. Weak Is the Sophistry

Print

1137 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version