Poems begining by S
/ page 221 of 287 /
Sonnet XXVII: Oh! Ye Bright Stars
© Mary Darby Robinson
Oh! ye bright Stars! that on the Ebon fields
Of Heav'n's empire, trembling seems to stand;
'Till rosy morn unlocks her portal bland,
Where the proud Sun his fiery banner wields!
Sonnet XXVI: Where Antique Woods
© Mary Darby Robinson
Where antique woods o'er-hang the mountains's crest,
And mid-day glooms in solemn silence lour;
Philosophy, go seek a lonely bow'r,
And waste life's fervid noon in fancied rest.
Sonnet XXV: Can'st Thou Forget
© Mary Darby Robinson
Can'st thou forget, O! Idol of my Soul!
Thy Sappho's voice, her form, her dulcet Lyre!
That melting ev'ry thought to fond desire,
Bade sweet delerium o'er thy senses roll?
Sonnet LXVII : The Landmark
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Was that the landmark? What,the foolish well
Whose wave, low down, I did not stoop to drink,
Sonnet XXIX: Farewell, Ye Tow'ring Cedars
© Mary Darby Robinson
Farewell, ye tow'ring Cedars, in whose shade,
Lull'd by the Nightingale, I sunk to rest,
While spicy breezes hover'd o'er my breast
To fan my cheek, in deep'ning tints array'd;
Sonnet XXIV: O Thou! Meek Orb
© Mary Darby Robinson
O thou! meek Orb! that stealing o'er the dale
Cheer'st with thy modest beams the noon of night!
On the smooth lake diffusing silv'ry light,
Sublimely still, and beautifully pale!
Sonnet XXIII: To Aetna's Scorching Sands
© Mary Darby Robinson
To AEtna's scorching sands my Phaon flies!
False Youth! can other charms attractive prove?
Say, can Sicilian loves thy passions move,
Play round thy heart, and fix thy fickle eyes,
Sailing Home From Rapallo
© Robert Lowell
[February 1954]
Your nurse could only speak Italian,
but after twenty minutes I could imagine your final week,
and tears ran down my cheeks....
Sonnet XXII: Wild Is the Foaming Sea
© Mary Darby Robinson
Wild is the foaming Sea! The surges roar!
And nimbly dart the livid lightnings round!
On the rent rock the angry waves rebound;
Ah me! the less'ning bark is seen no more!
Sonnet XLII: I Hunt For A Sign Of You
© Pablo Neruda
I hunt for a sign of you in all the others,
In the rapid undulant river of women,
Braids, shyly sinking eyes,
Light step that slices, sailing through the foam.
Sonnet XXI: Why Do I Live
© Mary Darby Robinson
Why do I live to loath the cheerful day,
To shun the smiles of Fame, and mark the hours
On tardy pinions move, while ceaseless show'rs
Down my wan cheek in lucid currents stray?
Sonnet XX: Oh! I Could Toil For Thee
© Mary Darby Robinson
Oh! I could toil for thee o'er burning plains;
Could smile at poverty's disastrous blow;
With thee, could wander 'midst a world of snow,
Where one long night o'er frozen Scythia reigns.
Sonnet XVIII: Why Art Thou Chang'd?
© Mary Darby Robinson
Why art thou chang'd? O Phaon! tell me why?
Love flies reproach, when passion feels decay;
Or, I would paint the raptures of that day,
When, in sweet converse, mingling sigh with sigh,
Sonnet XVII: Love Steals Unheeded
© Mary Darby Robinson
Love steals unheeded o'er the tranquil mind,
As Summer breezes fan the sleeping main,
Slow through each fibre creeps the subtle pain,
'Till closely round the yielding bosom twin'd.
Sonnet XVI: Delusive Hope
© Mary Darby Robinson
Delusive Hope! more transient than the ray
That leads pale twilight to her dusky bed,
O'er woodland glen, or breezy mountain's head,
Ling'ring to catch the parting sigh of day.
Sonnet XLIV: Here Droops the Muse
© Mary Darby Robinson
Here droops the muse! while from her glowing mind,
Celestial Sympathy, with humid eye,
Bids the light Sylph capricious Fancy fly,
Time's restless wings with transient flowr's to bind!
Sonnet XLII: Oh! Canst Thou Bear
© Mary Darby Robinson
Oh! can'st thou bear to see this faded frame,
Deform'd and mangled by the rocky deep?
Wilt thou remember, and forbear to weep,
My fatal fondness, and my peerless fame?
Sonnet XLI: Yes, I Will Go
© Mary Darby Robinson
Yes, I will go, where circling whirlwinds rise,
Where threat'ning clouds in sable grandeur lour;
Where the blast yells, the liquid columns pour,
And madd'ning billows combat with the skies!
Sonnet XL: On the Low Margin
© Mary Darby Robinson
On the low margin of a murm'ring stream,
As rapt in meditation's arms I lay;
Each aching sense in slumbers stole away,
While potent fancy form'd a soothing dream;
Sonnet XIX: Farewell, Ye Coral Caves
© Mary Darby Robinson
Farewell, ye coral caves, ye pearly sands,
Ye waving woods that crown yon lofty steep;
Farewell, ye Nereides of the glitt'ring deep,
Ye mountain tribes, ye fawns, ye sylvan bands:
