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| Search results for: sonnet | Found 863 Poems |
| 751. | Sonnet III: Turn to Yon Vale Beneath by Mary Darby Robinson | | Turn to yon vale beneath, whose tangled shade
Excludes the blazing torch of noon-day light,
Where sportive Fawns, and dimpled Loves invite,
The bow... |
| 752. | Sonnet IV: Why, When I Gaze by Mary Darby Robinson | | Why, when I gaze on Phaon's beauteous eyes,
Why does each thought in wild disorder stray?
Why does each fainting faculty decay,
And my chill'd brea... |
| 753. | Sonnet IX: Ye, Who in Alleys Green by Mary Darby Robinson | | Ye, who in alleys green and leafy bow'rs,
Sport, the rude children of fantastic birth;
Where frolic nymphs, and shaggy tribes of mirth,
In clam'rou... |
| 754. | Sonnet to Amicus by Mary Darby Robinson | | WHOE'ER thou art, whose soul-enchanting song
Steals on the sullen ear of pensive woe;
To whom the sounds of melody belong,
Sounds, that can more th... |
| 755. | Sonnet to Evening by Mary Darby Robinson | | [Written under a tree in the woods of St. Amand, in Flanders.]
SWEET BALMY HOUR! dear to the pensive mind,
Oft have I watch'd thy dark and wee... |
| 756. | Sonnet to Ingratitude by Mary Darby Robinson | | He that's ungrateful, has no guilt but one;
All other crimes may pass for virtues in him.
- YOUNG.
I COULD have borne affliction's sharpest th... |
| 757. | Sonnet to My Beloved Daughter by Mary Darby Robinson | | WHEN FATE in ruthless rage assail'd my breast,
And Heaven relentless seal'd the harsh decree;
HOPE, placid soother of the mind distress'd;
To calm ... |
| 758. | Sonnet to the Memory of Miss Maria Linley by Mary Darby Robinson | | 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... |
| 759. | Sonnet V: O! How Can Love by Mary Darby Robinson | | O! How can LOVE exulting Reason queil!
How fades each nobler passion from his gaze!
E'en Fame, that cherishes the Poet's lays,
That fame, ill-fated... |
| 760. | Sonnet VI: Is It to Love by Mary Darby Robinson | | Is it to love, to fix the tender gaze,
To hide the timid blush, and steal away;
To shun the busy world, and waste the day
In some rude mountain's s... |
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