Sonnet LXXXVIII (OH! for imperial Polydamna's art…)

OH! for imperial Polydamna'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 wan and hollow cheek impart The smile of happy youth, uncursed with thought. Potent indeed the charm that could appease Affection's ceaseless anguish, doom'd 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.