Maria La Touche married into the Huguenots La Touche family who owned the Harristown estate in Co. Dublin. Seven poems by her were published in The Irish Monthly in 1877 and 1878. They were collected as an appendix to her The Letters of a Noble Woman
A WET DAY IN SEPTEMBER
Now tearful Summer dwindles to its close,
The leaves fall tarnished from the last white rose;
No perfume lingers in the heavy air —
The Earth seems sleeping in a mute despair;
All one unvarying plain of gloomy green.
The grey horizon bounds the cheerless scene;
While slowly drifting on, the untiring rain
Falls blighting on the fields of wasted grain,
And the black river gliding turbid by
In doleful pools repeats the doleful sky —
So from the landscape’s too familiar gloom
I turn my eyes, and fairer visions come.
Lit by the golden dream-light of Regret
The scene grows radiant, and ’tis Summer yet.
Summer is burning in the April days,
And Earth lies tranced and drinks the genial rays —
Earth, liberal, loving, fair — not such as this
Where daisies own a Sunbeam’s passing kiss —
But rich, warm, glowing, passionately rife
With all the scents and hues of lavish life;
True Earth, not Dreamland — yet more fair than dreams
Its lilied plains and olive-haunted streams —
More bright than Dream-waves shine its sunlit seas,
More sweet than Dream-air floats its fragrant breeze —
More blest than Dream-life pass the charmed hours
Between its sky of light and earth of flowers.
Alas! that save in dreams I may not see
The only land that can be home to me.