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Mary Darby Robinson - Sonnet XXVII: Oh! Ye Bright Stars
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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!
To flames, less fierce than mine, your lustre yields,
And pow`rs more strong my countless tears command;
Love strikes the feeling heart with ruthless hand,
And only spares the breast which dullness shields!
Since, then, capricious nature but bestows
The fine affections of the soul, to prove
A keener sense of desolating woes,
Far, far from me the empty boast remove;
If bliss from coldness, pain from passion flows,
Ah! who would wish to feel, or learn to love?
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