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Poem by Mary Robinson
Sonnet 31. Far O’er the Waves
Far o’er the waves my lofty Bark shall glide, Love’s frequent sighs the flutt’ring sails shall swell, While to my native home I bid farewell, Hope’s snowy hand the burnis’d helm shall guide! Triton’s shall sport admidst the yielding tide, Myriads of Cupids round the prow shall dwell, And Venus, thron’d within her opal shell, Shall proudly o’er the glitt’ring billows ride! Young Dolphins, dashing in the golden spray, Shall with their scaly forms illume the deep Ting’d with the purple flush of sinking day, Whose flaming wreath shall crown the distant steep; While on the breezy deck soft minstrels play, And songs of love, the lover soothe to sleep!
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