Mary Darby Robinson

Mary Darby Robinson

Mary Robinson (née Darby; 27 November 1757 – 26 December 1800) was an English actress, poet, dramatist, novelist, and celebrity figure. She lived in England, in the cities of BristБольше
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#oberon3 мин. чтения

Oberon to the Queen of the Fairies

My
ON, with ev'ry sprite"That gilds the vapours of the night,"Shall dance and weave the verdant ring"With joy that mortals thus can sing; "And when thou sigh'st
IA'S name, "And mourn'st to feel a hopeless flame, ...

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#female2 мин. чтения

Female Fashions for 1799

A form, as any taper, fine ; A head like half-pint bason ; Where golden cords, and bands entwine, As rich as fleece of
ON
A pair of shoulders strong and wide, Like country clown enlisting ; Bare arms long dangling by the side, And shoes ...

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#sonnet1 мин. чтения

Sonnet I Favourd by Heavn

Favour'd by Heav'n are those, ordain'd to
The bliss supreme that kindles fancy's fire;
Whose magic fingers sweep the muses' lyre,
In varying cadence, eloquently chaste

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#the5 мин. чтения

The Negro Girl

I
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
The love-lorn

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#the2 мин. чтения

The Origin of Cupid -- A Fable

ON
DA'S mount the gods were met,
A sportive, jolly, noisy set,
Resolving nectar bowls to quaff,

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#mistress5 мин. чтения

Mistress Gurtons Cat

Old
SS
ON had a Cat,    A Tabby, loveliest of the race,
Sleek as a doe, and tame, and fat    With velvet paws, and whisker'd face;

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#lines3 мин. чтения

Lines to Him Who Will Understand Them

OU art no more my bosom's
ND;
Here must the sweet delusion end,
That charm'd my senses many a year,

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#deborahs5 мин. чтения

Deborahs Parrot a Village Tale

'Twas in a little western town    An ancient Maiden dwelt:
Her name was
SS, or
SS,

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#sonnet1 мин. чтения

Sonnet VII Come Reason

Come,
Reason, come
each nerve rebellious bind,
Lull the fierce tempest of my fev'rish soul;

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#londons2 мин. чтения

Londons Summer Morning

Who has not waked to list the busy sounds Of summer's morning, in the sultry smoke Of noisy London
On the pavement hot The sooty chimney-boy, with dingy face And tatter'd covering, shrilly bawls his trade,
Rousing the sleepy housemaid

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#sonnet1 мин. чтения

Sonnet XXXIII I Wake

I wake
delusive phantoms hence, away
Tempt not the weakness of a lover's breast;
The softest breeze can shake the halcyon's nest,

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#ode3 мин. чтения

Ode to the Nightingale

ET
RD OF
OW
­why complain      In such soft melody of Song,    That

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