Sonnet XX: Oh! I Could Toil For Thee

Read 'Sonnet XX: Oh! I Could Toil For Thee' by 'Mary Darby Robinson' and provide your summary and literary analysis in the comments section below.

Sonnet XX: Oh! I Could Toil For Thee by Mary Darby Robinson

 Oh! I could toil for thee o'er burning plains;
Could smile at poverty's disastrous blow;
With thee, could wander 'midst a world of snow,
Where one long night o'er frozen Scythia reigns.
Sever'd from thee, my sick'ning soul disdains
The thrilling thought, the blissful dream to know,
And can'st thou give my days to endless woe,
Requiting sweetest bliss with cureless pains?
Away, false fear! nor think capricious fate
Would lodge a daemon in a form divine!
Sooner the dove shall seek a tyger mate,
Or the soft snow-drop round the thistle twine;
Yet, yet, I dread to hope, nor dare to hate,
Too proud to sue! too tender to resign!

Form: Italian Sonnet

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