(Mary Robinson)

Sonnet 44. Here Droops the Muse

Here droops the muse! while from her glowing mind,
Celestial Sympathy, with humid eye,
Bids the light Sylph capricious Fancy fly,
Times restless wings with transient flowrs to bind!
For now, with folded arms and head inclind,
Reflection pours the deep and frequent sigh,
Oer the dark scroll of human destiny,
Where gaudy buds and wounding thorns are twind.
O! Sky-born VIRTUE! sacred is thy name!
And though mysterious Fate, with frown severe,
Oft decorates thy brows with wreaths of Fame,
Bespangled oer with sorrows chilling tear!
Yet shalt thou more than mortal raptures claim,
The brightest planet of th ETERNAL SPHERE!

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