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Mary Darby Robinson - Sonnet XXXVII: When, in the Gloomy Mansion
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When, in the gloomy mansion of the dead,
This with`ring heart, this faded form shall sleep;
When these fond eyes, at length shall cease to weep,
And earth`s cold lap receive this fev`rish head;
Envy shall turn away, a tear to shed,
And Time`s obliterating pinions sweep
The spot, where poets shall their vigils keep,
To mourn and wander near my freezing bed!
Then, my pale ghost, upon th` Elysian shore,
Shall smile, releas`d from ev`ry mortal care;
Whil, doom`d love`s victim to repine no more,
My breast shall bathe in endless rapture there!
Ah! no!my restless shade would still deplore,
Nor taste that bliss, which Phaon did not share.
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