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Poem by Mary Robinson


Stanzas to the Rose


SWEET PICTURE of Lifes chequerd hour!
Ah, wherefore droop thy blushing head?
Tell me, oh tell me, hapless flowr,
Is it because thy charms are fled? 
Come, gentle ROSE, and learn from me 
A lesson of Philosophy. 

Thy scented buds, LIFES joys disclose;
They strew our paths with magic sweets;
Where many a thorn like thine, fair ROSE,
Full oft the weary wandrer meets; 
And when he sees thy charms depart, 
He feels thy thorn within his heart. 

When Morns bright torch illumd the sky,
Vainly thy flaunting buds displayd
Enamelld leaves of crimson die,
Ill-fated blossoms doomd to fade; 
So tis with BEAUTY, hapless flowr, 
Its lustre blooms but for an hour. 

Come blushing ROSE, and on my breast
Recline thy gentle head, and die;
Thy scatterd leaves shall there be pressd,
Bathd with a tear from PITYS eye; 
There shall thy balmy sweets impart 
An essence grateful to my heart. 

Thus SYMPATHY, with lenient powr,
Shall bid thy fading charms bestow
Soft odours for lifes happy hour,
Kind, healing balsam for its woe! 
If such thy virtues, ROSE DIVINE! 
OH ! MAY THY ENVIED FATE BE MINE.



Mary Robinson


Mary Robinson's other poems:
  1. Sonnet 33. I Wake!
  2. The Granny Grey, a Love Tale
  3. The Widows Home
  4. Sonnet 44. Here Droops the Muse
  5. Stanzas to Flora


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