Sonnet, To The Strawberry
Helen Maria Williams

The Strawberry blooms upon its lowly bed,
Plant of my native soil!—the Lime may fling.
More potent fragrance on the zephyr’s wing;
The milky Cocoa richer juices shed;
The white Guava lovelier blossoms spread—
But not like thee to fond remembrance bring
The vanish’d hours of life’s enchanting spring,
Short calendar of joys for ever fled!—
Thou bidst the scenes of childhood rise to view,
The wild-wood path which fancy loves to trace;
Where veil’d in leaves, thy fruit of rosy hue
Lurk’d on its pliant stem with modest grace—
But ah! when thought would later years renew,
Alas, successive sorrows croud the space!

From Helen Maria Williams, from Paul and Virginia (London, 1795), 67.

Source: Eighteenth Century Collections Online