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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=455662" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet to the Memory of Miss Maria Linley</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=455662" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">So bends beneath the storm yon balmy flow'r,<br>Whose spicy blossoms once perfum'd the gale;<br>So press'd with tears reclines yon lily pale,<br>Obedient to the rude and beating show'r. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=455662" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Still is the LARK, that hov'ring o'er yon spray,<br>With jocund carol usher'd in the morn;<br>And mute the NIGHTINGALE, whose tender lay<br>Melted the feeling mind with sounds forlorn: </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=455662" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">More sweet, MARIA, was thy plaintive strain!<br>That strain is o'er; but mem'ry ne'er shall fade,<br>When erst it cheer'd grey twilight's dreary shade,<br>And charm'd the sorrow-stricken soul from pain;<br>STILL, STILL, melodious maid, thy dulcet song<br>Shall breathe, immortal, on an ANGEL'S TONGUE!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Mary+Darby+Robinson">Mary Darby Robinson</a></strong></div>

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