Date: 1793, 1806
"And Truth's white bosom stampt with falsehood's stain!"
preview | full record— 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?"
preview | full record— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)
Date: 1793, 1806
"'Twas Instinct rushing thro' her beating breast! / Instinct, the lamp divine that lights the soul"
preview | full record— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)
Date: 1793, 1806
"The noblest passions, and the living pow'rs / Of intellectual light, the soul's pure lamp, / All, all extinguish'd! "
preview | full record— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)
Date: 1793
"But, most of all, [the mind is subject] to that lov'd voice, whose thrill, / Rushing impetuous through each throbbing vein, / Dilates the wond'ring mind, and frees its pow'rs / From the cold chains of icy apathy / To all the vast extremes of bliss and pain!"
preview | full record— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)
Date: 1796
"There lux'ry spreads profusion wide, / To glut the iron breast of pride!"
preview | full record— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)
Date: 1799, 1806
"O Gold! thou pois'nous dross, whose subtile pow'r / Can change men's souls, or captive take the will."
preview | full record— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)
Date: 1799, 1806
Gold "tipp'st the leaves of fancy's fairest flow'r / With glitt'ring drops: it feels the numbing spell / Creep through each fibre slow; while ev'ry ill / Of sordid mis'ry blossoms to devour"
preview | full record— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)
Date: 1800, 1806
"He is young, / And yet the stamp of thought so tempers youth, / That all its fires are faded"
preview | full record— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)
Date: 1800,1806
"Thrice he rose, and thrice / His feet recoil'd; and still the livid flame / Lengthen'd and quiver'd as the moaning wind / Pass'd thro' the rushy crevice, while his heart / Beat, like the death-watch, in his shudd'ring breast."
preview | full record— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)