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Poem by Mary Robinson
Sonnet 33. 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, And lightest clouds o’ercast the dawning ray! ’Twas but a vision! Now, the star of day Peers, like a gem on Aetna’s burning crest! Wellcome, ye Hills, with golden vintage drest; Sicilian forests brown, and vallies gay! A mournful stranger, from the Lesbian Isle, Not strange, in loftiest eulogy of Song! She, who could teach the Stoic’s cheek to smile, Thaw the cold heart, and chain the wond’ring throng, Can find no balm, love’s arrows to beguile; Ah! Sorrows known too soon! and felt too long!
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