Mary Darby Robinson

(1758 - 1800 / England)

Sonnet. Inscribed To Her Grace The Duchess Of Devonshire

Poem by Mary Darby Robinson

'TIS NOT thy flowing hair of orient gold,
Nor those bright eyes, like sapphire gems that glow;
Nor cheek of blushing rose, nor breast of snow,
The varying passions of the heart could hold:

Those locks, too soon, shall own a silv'ry ray,
Those radiant orbs their magic fires forego;
Insatiate TIME shall steal those tints away,
Warp thy fine form, and bend thy beauties low:

But the rare wonders of thy polish'd MIND
Shall mock the empty menace of decay;
The GEM, that in thy SPOTLESS BREAST enshrin'd,
Glows with the light of intellectual ray;
Shall, like the Brilliant, scorn each borrow'd aid,
And deck'd with native lustre NEVER FADE!

Comments about Sonnet. Inscribed To Her Grace The Duchess Of Devonshire by Mary Darby Robinson

  • Brian JaniBrian Jani (5/29/2014 1:08:00 PM)

    Nice work Mary I love this poem(Report)Reply

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Read poems about / on: magic, snow, rose, hair, light, time, heart, fire, passion

Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003