Mrs. Mary Darby Robinson (1757?–1800)

HIGH on a rock coeval with the skies,

A temple stands, reared by immortal powers

To Chastity divine! Ambrosial flowers,

Twining round icicles, in columns rise,

Mingling with pendent gems of orient dyes.

Piercing the air, a golden crescent towers,

Veiled by transparent clouds; while smiling hours

Shake from their varying wings celestial joys!

The steps of spotless marble, scattered o’er

With deathless roses armed with many a thorn,

Lead to the altar. On the frozen floor,

Studded with tear-drops petrified by scorn,

Pale vestals kneel, the goddess to adore,

While Love, his arrows broke, retires forlorn.