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Mary Darby Robinson - Sonnet XIII: Bring, Brick to Deck My Brow
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Bring, bring to deck my brow, ye Sylvan girls,
A roseate wreath; nor for my waving hair
The costly band of studded gems prepare,
Of sparkling crysolite or orient pearls:
Love, o`er my head his canopy unfurls,
His purple pinions fan the whisp`ring air;
Mocking the golden sandal, rich and rare, 
Beneath my feet the fragrant woodbine curls.
Bring the thin robe, to fold about my breast,
White as the downy swan; while round my waist
Let leaves of glossy myrtle bind the vest,
Not idly gay, but elegantly chaste!
Love scorns the nymph in wanton trappings drest; 
And charms the most concealed, are doubly grac`d.
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