Date: 1791, 1806

"When from the festive bow'r / The frenzied Homicide retreats, / And, in his bosom's cell, / Essays each rising throb to quell;"

— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)

Date: 1791, 1806

"Yet in my bosom's ruby cell / The philosophic lore shall live!"

— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)

Date: 1793

"For what is sleep, but temporary death; / Sealing up all the windows of the soul, / And binding ev'ry thought in torpid chains?"

— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)

Date: 1796, 1806

"Ambition!--not that emulative zeal Which wings the tow'ring souls of godlike men! / But bold, oppressive, self-created pow'r, / That, trampling o'er the barrier of the laws, / And scattering wide the tender shoots of pity, / Strikes at the root of reason, and confines / Nature itself in bondage!"

— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)

Date: 1806

"But when thy true poetic lays, / Pierce to the Heart's remotest cell; / We feel the conscious innate praise"

— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)

Date: 1806

"All around / A solemn stillness seems to guard the scene, / Nursing the brood of thought--a thriving brood / In the rich mazes of the cultur'd brain"

— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)