Poem by Mary Robinson

Sonnet 13. Bring, Brick to Deck My Brow

Bring, bring to deck my brow, ye Sylvan girls,
A roseate wreath; nor for my waving hair
The costly band of studded gems prepare,
Of sparkling crysolite or orient pearls:
Love, o'er my head his canopy unfurls,
His purple pinions fan the whisp'ring air;
Mocking the golden sandal, rich and rare,
Beneath my feet the fragrant woodbine curls.
Bring the thin robe, to fold about my breast,
White as the downy swan; while round my waist
Let leaves of glossy myrtle bind the vest,
Not idly gay, but elegantly chaste!
Love scorns the nymph in wanton trappings drest;
And charms the most concealed, are doubly grac'd.

1. Sonnet 41. Yes, I Will Go
2. Sonnet 28. Weak Is the Sophistry
3. Sonnet 38. Oh Sigh
4. Ode to Envy
5. Sonnet 40. On the Low Margin

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