Date: 1789

"For of calamity so long the prey, / Imagination now has lost her powers, / Nor will her fairy loom again essay / To dress affliction in a robe of flowers."

— Smith, Charlotte (1749-1806)

Date: 1789

"Thou spectre of terrific mien, / Lord of the hopeless heart and hollow eye, / In whose fierce train each form is sees / That drives sick Reason to insanity!"

— Smith, Charlotte (1749-1806)

Date: 1789

"Ah! hide for ever from my sight / The faithless flatterer Hope--whose pencil, gay, / Portrays some vision of delight, / Then bids the fairy tablet fade away; / While in dire contrast, to mine eyes / Thy phantoms, yet more hideous, rise, / And Memory draws, from Pleasure's wither'd flower, / Corr...

— Smith, Charlotte (1749-1806)

Date: 1789

"I bid the traitor Love, adieu! / Who to this fond, believing bosom came, / A guest insidious and untrue, / With Pity's soothing voice--in Friendship's name."

— Smith, Charlotte (1749-1806)

Date: 1789

"Alas! these joys are mine in dreams alone, / When cruel Reason abdicates her throne!"

— Smith, Charlotte (1749-1806)

Date: 1792

"More noble than the sycophant, whose art / Must heap with taudry flowers thy hated shrine; / I envy not the meed thou canst impart / To crown his service--while, tho' Pride combine / With Fraud to crush me--my unfetter'd heart / Still to the Mountain Nymph may offer mine."

— Smith, Charlotte (1749-1806)

Date: 1791, 1792

"For thou to me canst sov'reign bliss impart, / Thy mind my empire--and my throne thy heart."

— Smith, Charlotte (1749-1806)

Date: 1793, 1797

"Then, while each hideous image to his mind, / Rises terrific, o'er a bleeding corse / Stumbling he falls."

— Smith, Charlotte (1749-1806)

Date: 1793

"[Y]et, half repentant now / Her headlong haste, she wishes she had staid / To die with those affrighted Fancy paints / The lawless soldiers' victims."

— Smith, Charlotte (1749-1806)

Date: 1797

"Thus on the golden thread that Fancy weaves / Buoyant, as Hope's illusive flattery breathes, / The young and visionary Poet leaves / Life's dull realities, while sevenfold wreaths / Of rainbow light around his head revolve."

— Smith, Charlotte (1749-1806)