Poems by Mary Darby Robinson

All Poems Original Poems Translations

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Lines to Him Who Will Understand Them

THOU art no more my bosom's FRIEND;

Here must the sweet delusion end,

That charm'd my senses many a year,

Thro' smiling summers, winters drear.

O, FRIENDSHIP! am I doom'd to find

Thou art a phantom of the mind?

A glitt'ring shade, an empty name,

An air-born vision's vap'rish flame?

by Mary Darby Robinson

Life

"What is this world?thy school, O misery!

"Our only lesson is to learn to suffer."

- YOUNG.

LOVE, thou sportive fickle boy,

Source of anguish, child of joy,

Ever woundingever smiling,

Soothing still, and still beguiling;

What are all thy boasted treasures,

by Mary Darby Robinson

Monody to the Memory of Chatterton

Chill penury repress'd his noble rage,

And froze the genial current of his soul.

GRAY.

IF GRIEF can deprecate the wrath of Heaven,

Or human frailty hope to be forgiven !

Ere now thy sainted spirit bends its way

To the bland regions of celestial day;

Ere now, thy soul, immers'd in purest air

by Mary Darby Robinson

The Negro Girl

Dark was the dawn, and o'er the deep

The boist'rous whirlwinds blew;

The Sea-bird wheel'd its circling sweep,

And all was drear to view—

When on the beach that binds the western shore

The love-lorn ZELMA stood, list'ning the tempest's roar.

II.

by Mary Darby Robinson

Ode to Eloquence

HAIL! GODDESS of persuasive art!

The magic of whose tuneful tongue

Lulls to soft harmony the wand'ring heart

With fascinating song;

O, let me hear thy heav'n-taught strain,

As thro' my quiv'ring pulses steal

The mingling throbs of joy and pain,

Which only sensate minds can feel;

by Mary Darby Robinson

Absence

WHEN from the craggy mountain's pathless steep,

Whose flinty brow hangs o'er the raging sea,

My wand'ring eye beholds the foamy deep,

I mark the restless surgeand think of THEE.

The curling waves, the passing breezes move,

Changing and treach'rous as the breath of LOVE;

The "sad similitude" awakes my smart,

And thy dear image twines about my heart.

by Mary Darby Robinson

January, 1795

PAVEMENT slipp'ry, people sneezing,

Lords in ermine, beggars freezing ;

Titled gluttons dainties carving,

Genius in a garret starving.

Lofty mansions, warm and spacious ;

Courtiers clinging and voracious ;

Misers scarce the wretched heeding ;

Gallant soldiers fighting, bleeding.

by Mary Darby Robinson

Male Fashions for 1799

Crops like hedgehogs, high-crown'd hats,

Whispers like Jew MOSES ;

Padded collars, thick cravats,

And cheeks as red as roses.

Faces painted pink and brown ;

Waistcoats strip'd and gaudy ;

Sleeves thrice doubled thick with down,

And straps to brace the body.

by Mary Darby Robinson

All Alone

Ah! wherefore by the Church-yard side,

Poor little LORN ONE, dost thou stray?

Thy wavy locks but thinly hide

The tears that dim thy blue-eye's ray;

And wherefore dost thou sigh, and moan,

And weep, that thou art left alone?

II.

by Mary Darby Robinson

Edmund's Wedding

By the side of the brook, where the willow is waving

Why sits the wan Youth, in his wedding-suit gay!

Now sighing so deeply, now frantickly raving

Beneath the pale light of the moon's sickly ray.

Now he starts, all aghast, and with horror's wild gesture,

Cries, "AGNES is coming, I know her white vesture!

"See! see! how she beckons me on to the willow,

"Where, on the cold turf, she has made our rude pillow.

by Mary Darby Robinson

The Haunted Beach

Upon a lonely desart Beach

Where the white foam was scatter'd,

A little shed uprear'd its head

Though lofty Barks were shatter'd.

The Sea-weeds gath'ring near the door,

A sombre path display'd;

And, all around, the deaf'ning roar,

Re-echo'd on the chalky shore,

by Mary Darby Robinson

Sonnet XV: Now, Round My Favour'd Grot

Now, round my favor'd grot let roses rise,

To strew the bank where Phaon wakes from rest;

O! happy buds! to kiss his burning breast,

And die, beneath the lustre of his eyes!

Now, let the timbrels echo to the skies,

Now damsels sprinkel cassia on his vest,

With od'rous wreaths of constant myrtle drest,

And flow'rs, deep tinted with the rainbow's dyes!

by Mary Darby Robinson