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Mary Darby Robinson - To Simplicity
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[Inscribed to Lady Duncannon.]


SWEET blushing Nymph, who loves to dwell
  In the dark forest`s silent gloom;
Who smiles within the Hermit`s cell,
  And sighs upon the rustic`s tomb;
Who, pitying, sees the busy throng,
  The slaves of fashion`s giddy sway;
Who in a wild and artless song,
  Warbles the feath`ry hours away. 

Oft have I flown thy steps to trace,
  In the low valley`s still retreat,
Oft have I view`d thy blooming face,
  In the small cottage, proudly neat!
I`ve seen thee, veil`d in vestal lawn,
  In the cold cloyster`s hallow`d shade;
I`ve seen thee, at the peep of dawn,
  In simple, russet garb array`d. 

I`ve seen thee, crowned with APRIL flow`rs,
  Light bounding o`er the rural mead; 
I`ve heard thee in sequester`d bow`rs
  Sing to the SHEPHERD`S past`ral reed;
When pleasure led the nymphs along
  In moonlight gambols o`er the green,
I`ve mark`d THEE, fairest of the throng,
  With modest eye and timid mien. 

No more my eager gaze shall trace
  Thy varying footsteps, blithe and free;
For what art thou, but native grace,
  Soft Beauty`s child, SIMPLICITY?
`Tis thine in every path to dwell,
  Where TRUTH and INNOCENCE are seen,
In cottage low, or Hermit`s cell,
  Or splendid dome, or rural green. 

The spotless MIND, the brow serene,
  `Tis THINE, enchanting Maid, to boast!
The sweet, benignant, humble mien,
  And all that VIRTUE values most!
Thy blushes paint DUNCANNONS`s cheek,
  Thy light hand weaves her golden hair,
Around her form, THY charms I`ll seek,
  FOR ALL THE GRACES REVEL THERE!
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