Nepenthe

[violsva]

Charlotte Smith

Oh! for imperial Polydamnia’s art,
Which to bright Helen was in Egypt taught,
To mix with magic power the oblivious draught
Of force to staunch the bleeding of the heart,
And to Care’s worn and hollow cheek impart
The smile of happy youth, uncursed with thought.
Potent indeed that charm that could appease
Affection’s ceaseless anguish, doomed to weep
O’er the cold grave; or yield even transient ease
By soothing busy Memory to sleep!
- Around me those who surely must have tried
Some charm of equal power, I daily see,
But still to me Oblivion is denied,
There’s no Nepenthe, now, on earth for me.