What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
Poetical Works of the Late Mrs. Mary Robinson: Including the Pieces Last ...
Mrs. Mary Robinson
No preview available - 2016
Alferenzi Anacreontic anchoret Aveyron beam behold beneath blast blest bliss blushing bosom bower brave breast breath breeze brow charms cheek cold dark death despair divine doom'd dread drest fade faint fame fancy fate fear flame flowers fond frantic song gale gaze gentle glittering gloom glow grace grave heart Heaven Honoria hope hour Lascar light lone lustre lyre maid mark'd midst mind moon morn mountain mournful Muse Nature's night nymph o'er pain pale pangs pass'd pensive Petrarch pity poison'd pride proud rapture repose rill rose round Sappho scene scorn shade shed sigh Skiddaw skies smile soft song SONNET soothe sorrow soul spectre steals strain sublime sweet tear tempest thee thine thou throbbing throng toy'd trembling Twas Valmont vex'd wandering wave weary weep wild wind wing woes wound wretch youth
Page 131 - Chas'd ev'ry pain, sooth'd ev'ry woe; That Truth, unwelcome to my ear, Swells the deep sigh, recalls the tear, Gives to the sense the keenest smart, Checks the warm pulses of the Heart, Darkens my Fate, and steals away Each gleam of joy thro
Page 105 - ... summer day ! The spectre's eyes were sunk, but he Seem'd with their sockets still to see ! The second bell is heard to ring : Four barefoot monks of orders grey, Again their holy service sing ; And round the chapel altar pray : The lady counted o'er and o'er, And shudder'd while she counted — four ! " Oh ! fathers, who was he, so gay, That stood beside the chapel door ? Oh ! tell me, fathers, tell me pray.
Page 104 - Forbear, oh, lady ! look no more— They pass'd — a livid corpse they bore. They pass'd, and all was silent now ; The breeze upon the forest slept ; The moon stole o'er the mountain's brow ; Again the lady sigh'd and wept : She watch'd the holy fathers go Aloug the forest path below.
Page 210 - Is slily open'd, and the half-worn suit (Sometimes the pilfer'd treasure of the base Domestic spoiler), for one half its worth, Sinks in the green abyss. The porter now Bears his huge load along the burning way; And the poor poet wakes from busy dreams, To paint the summer morning. (Norton Anthology of Literature by Women, pp. 251-2) CRITICAL THINKING "London's Summer Morning" is prophetically modern in tone and substance.
Page 178 - And my chill'd breast in throbbing tumults rise ? Mute on the ground my lyre neglected lies, The Muse forgot, and lost the melting lay; My down-cast looks, my...
Page 151 - BOUNDING billow, cease thy motion, Bear me not so swiftly o'er; Cease thy roaring, foamy ocean, I will tempt thy rage no more. Ah! within my bosom beating, Varying passions wildly reign; Love, with proud resentment meeting, Throbs by turns, of joy and pain. Joy, that far from foes I wander, Where their...
Page 151 - Silent grief shall be my glory, — Grief, that stoops not to complain ! Let the bosom prone to ranging, Still by ranging seek a cure ; Mine disdains the thought of changing, Proudly destin'd to endure.
Page 173 - Nature's long holiday ! Luxuriant, rich, In her proud progeny, she smiling marks Their graces, now mature, and wonder-fraught ! Hail! season exquisite! — and hail, ye sons Of rural toil ! — ye blooming daughters ! — ye Who, in the lap of hardy labour rear'd, Enjoy the mind unspotted 1 Up the plain, Or on the side-long hill, or in the glen.
Page 132 - Thee. Yes ; I shall view thee in each Flow'r, That changes with the transient hour : Thy wand'ring Fancy I shall find Borne on the wings of every wind : Thy wild impetuous passions trace O'er the white wave's tempestuous space : In every changing season prove An emblem of thy wav'ring Love.