Poem by Mary Robinson

Sonnet 35. What Means the Mist

What means the mist opaque that veils these eyes;
Why does yon threat’ning tempest shroud the day?
Why does thy altar, Venus, fade away,
And on my breast the dews of horror rise?
Phaon is false! be dim ye orient Skies;
And let black Erebus succeed your ray;
Let clashing thunders roll, and lightning play;
Phaon is false! and hopeless Sappho dies!
”Farewell! my Lesbian love, you might have said,”
Such sweet remembrance had some pity prov’d,
”Or coldly this, farewell, Oh! Lesbian maid!”
No task severe, for one so fondly lov’d!
The gentle thought had sooth’d my wand’ring shade,
From life’s dark valley, and its thorns remov’d!

1. Sonnet 41. Yes, I Will Go
2. Sonnet 40. On the Low Margin
3. Sonnet 28. Weak Is the Sophistry
4. Sonnet 38. Oh Sigh
5. Stanzas Written under an Oak in Windsor Forest

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