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Sandrine Sonnet Cycle 2005 Copy I - Lxx - Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Notes: 11 October 2005

This entire acrostic rewriting of the Shakespeare Sonnet sequence was both meant to be and was taken as more an intellectual challenge than an emotional statement, and took around 11 days from start to finish between mid and end October 1992

Where there are some alliterative sonnets there is not necessarily a transcription of Shakespeare’s ‘original sonnets’ as, from memory, the wish to introduce some different colouring triumphed over strict following of the dotted line.

Some of the initial transpositions are no longer extant having been lost through a computer crash which also claimed around 500 other poems.


2nd Edition September’s sun remembers August heat
I Sweet, from the fairest creatures we desire
II Shall ever Winter snows besiege thy brow
III See in the mirror my reflection there
IV Such loveliness as yours one should not hoard
V Summer's spent while Winter's cold approaches
VI Self-willed no longer stay, thou art too fair
VII Sun in the East, the gorgeous morning light
VIII Sweet with sweet strives not, why should joy with joy
IX Single remaineth thou lest widow's tears
X Shame should cheek burn, in turn admired by many
XI Stir up the muddy waters of my mind
XII Since daily do I clock hard knocks of time
XIII So if, sweet love, thy life be like a book
XIV Stars and cards cannot my judgement rule
XV Strange seems it that each thing takes time to grow
XVI Stone flakes to sand, and mountains melt to mould
XVII So who'll believe my verse in times to come
XVIII Shall I compare her to a summer's day
XVIII BIS Shall I compare thee to a game of chess
XVIII TER Shall I compare thee? In what galaxy
XIX Swift-footed Time speeds on with open jaws
XX Soft woman's face with Nature's own hand painted
XXI So is it not with me as with that Muse
XXII So long as you and youth stay of one date,
XXIII So as an actor, stage-fright suffering
XXIV Strong hand has played the painter here to lend
XXV So let those who seem lucky in their stars
XXVI Sovereign she to whose fidelity
XXVI Bis Sovereign Lord, to whom I'm vassal sworn
XXVII Stark, strained from work, I will me to my bed
XXVII Bis Strained with toil I coil within my bed
XXVIII Separate from you, what sorry plight
XXIX Star-cross'd, fortune lost, tossed on Fate's wave
XXX Sometimes in sessions of unhappy thought
XXXI So why that promise of a Sunday tea
XXXII Should you survive the number of my days
XXXIII So many splendid mornings have I seen
XXXIV So was that tea-time promise made in play
XXXV Stop, no longer grieve, believe! Who cares
XXXVI Shall I confess that we two must be twain
XXXVII Shirking to show my worth I take delight
XXXVIII So long as Love breathes life into the breast
XXXIX So how, without self-praising, can I sing
XL Strip all my former loves, I'll all reveal
XLI Should Muse to music set thy symphony
XLII Send me a smile! - I'll really go to town
XLIII Sweet, though I blink, I'll never blinkered be,
XLIV Should Chance or base design divide us twain
XLV So though from all four elements you're drawn
XLVI See you the struggles 'twixt my heart and mind
XLVII Struggles cease as heart and eye ally
XLVIII Streams start as springs, soon into rivers stream
XLIX Spare self from sorrow let not my defects
L Sadly I journey onward into night
LI Shall then my love forgive my constant calls
LII So am I as the wealthy man whose key
LIII She hungry makes where most she satisfies
LIV Sweet beauty shines as brighter ornament
LV Sometimes I dream you'll leave the door ajar
LVI So is it error where I would draw near
LVII Servant of her wishes and desire
LVIII So God forbid the day that sees me thine
LIX Sundry inventions of technology
LX So do our minutes hasten to their end
LXI Slumbers at thy pressing wish are broken
LXII Sin of self-love was mine until we met
LXIII Sunset sends shadows, yet an inner light
LXIV Steamroller strange is Time, so prompt to wreak
LXV Some thoughts like playful kittens trip ahead
LXVI Such separation leaves my senses weak
LXVII Spontaneous these feelers here I send
LXVIII Should there be nothing new beneath the sun
LXIX Strong is my faith, and each wraith from the Past
LXX Slander's spite to quality's attracted
LXXI So do not mourn for me when I am dead
LXXII Should the cruel world oblige thee to recite
LXXIII Sad Autumn turncoat sheds its coat of leaves
LXXIV So be content, for when the verdict's cast
LXXV So are you to my soul as food to life
LXXVI So far from innovations, easy change
LXXVII Sad lines reflected show how beauties wear,
LXXVIII So often I've invoked thee as my Muse
LXXIX Sweet love thy face, the fountainhead of grace,
LXXX See how I stall when my poor pen would write
LXXXI Shall I survive if you refuse to make
LXXXII Since you were never married to my Muse
LXXXIII Strange as it sounds I felt you'd never need
LXXXIV Speech serves no turn, what can give pleasure more
LXXXV Speech is held silver, silence gold is found,
LXXXVI Seductive, someone peacock played, his verse
LXXXVII So leave! Farewell! Thou art for my possessing
LXXXVIII Should thou my efforts mock, set all to light
LXXXIX Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault
XC Spurn me and my plea if out of place
XCI Some glory in their birth, some in their skill
XCII Steal not away, coeval is thy life
XCIII Shall I survive if we apart remain
XCIV Such as have power to hurt, yet do not so
XCV Shame turns to bliss, and blame's a-miss if you
XCVI Some say thy fault is youth and wantonness
XCVII So like the winter has thy absence been
XCVIII Spring called this year, discovered we'd not met
XCIX Sweet thief whence didst thou steal thy sweet
C So where did you slip off to, truant Muse
CI Speak truant Muse, how will you make amends
CII Strong is my love although no strength is seeming
CIII Scope for self-pride's apparent in this work
CIV Seen through my eyes you never can grow old
CV So let not love be called idolatry
CVI Should in the chronicles of wasted time
CVII Still will this fancy stay thy monument
CVIII So as time serves fine wine so this serves thee
CIX Say not that ever I was false at heart
CX So much 'tis true, I've gadded here and there
CXI Start and finish for me are the same
CXII Scandal's stamped your image on my brow
CXIII Since I met you my eye is in my mind
CXIV Such angelic qualities as yours
CXV Such lines I wrote before were outright lie
CXV So are our revels ended, and the game
CXVI So do not to the marriage of true minds
CXVI bis Law of this world
CXVII Say that on the others I have bent my eye
CXVIII Something sings within me when I think
CXIX Still losing when myself I sought to win
CXX Sensing old unkindness helps me now
CXXI Spend time elsewhere, share not thy days with me
CXXII So many gifts to praise, so little space
CXXIII So, Time, If mockery there be, I mock
CXXIV Should this, my love, be held as wishful thinking
CXXV So turn the old Khayyam and from his cup
CXXVI Sickled Time is sick with jealousy
CXXVII Stale seems all praise with, dripping from the pen
CXXVIII So often when thy smallest thoughts caress
CXXIX Shakespeare too often failed to understand
CXXX Sun shines far brighter than do Sandrine's eyes
CXXXI Swift in succession speed sweet thoughts when I
CXXXII Some seek to turn impressions inside out
CXXXIII Stolen from myself, in jail to lie
CXXXIV Stay of execution do I seek
CXXXV Some find, in seeking, pleasure undefined
CXXXVI Severed from all but vocal echo, I
CXXXVII Sweet Cupid what have you done to my eyes
CXXXVIII Should she swear she be one with Time and Truth
CXXXIX Say that you love another if you can
CXL Sorrow lends me words which here express
CXLI Suffice it that you know 'tis not my eyes
CXLII Second thoughts tentacle sticky fingers
CXLIII Studied style, like polished mirror glass
CXLIV So here's confessed, my heart and head are thine
CXLV Soft lips that Love's own hand did make
CXLVI Sad soul, mad centre of my sinful earth
CXLVII Sense, sensibility, so sweetly signed
CXLVIII Surprise seduction signals siren song
CXLIX Sometimes surprising sweetness sweeps souls shy
CL Single state seems seemly, some souls state
CLI Swain to shepherdess sent gentle posy
CLII Show me another who thy praise has penned
CLIII Sweet Cupid laid his bow down, fell asleep
CLIV Shrew Tamed, All's Well, though her is Much Ado
CLV Simplicity was ne'er my claim to fame

ALPHABETICAL ORDER
CXVI bis Law of this world
LXXIX Sabbath day does herald due repose
LXXIII Sad Autumn turncoat sheds its coat of leaves
LXXVII Sad lines reflected show how beauties wear,
L Sadly I journey onward into night
CXLVI Sad soul, mad centre of my sinful earth
XCVI Sail set to wet the pen, another verse
CIX Say not that ever I was false at heart
LXXXIX Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault
CXXXIX Say that you love another if you can
CXVII Say that on the others I have bent my eye
CXII Scandal's stamped your image on my brow
CIII Scope for self-pride's apparent in this work
CXLII Second thoughts tentacle sticky fingers
LXXXVI Seductive, someone peacock played, his verse
LXXX See how I stall when my poor pen would write
LXXX See how I faint whenever I do paint.
III See in the mirror my reflection there
XLVI See you the struggles 'twixt my heart and mind
CIV Seen through my eyes you never can grow old
VI Self-willed no longer stay, thou art too fair
XLII Send me a smile! - I'll really go to town
CXLVII Sense, sensibility, so sweetly signed
CXX Sensing old unkindness helps me now
XXVIII Separate from you, what sorry plight
LVII Servant of her wishes and desire
CXXXVI Severed from all but vocal echo, I
CXXIX Shakespeare too often failed to understand
II Shall ever Winter snows besiege thy brow
XVIII Shall I compare her to a summer's day
XVIII BIS Shall I compare thee to a game of chess
XVIII TER Shall I compare thee? In what galaxy
XXXVI Shall I confess that we two must be twain
LXXXI Shall I survive if you refuse to make
XCIII Shall I survive if we apart remain
LI Shall then my love forgive my constant calls
X Shame hast thou surely, though beloved by many
XCV Shame turns to bliss, and blame's a-miss if you
LIII She hungry makes where most she satisfies
She sudden danced into my sight, fair sprite
XXXVII Shirking to show my worth I take delight
XLIV Should Chance or base design divide us twain
CVI Should in the chronicles of wasted time
XLI Should Muse to music set thy symphony
CXXXVIII Should she swear she be one with Time and Truth
LXXII Should the cruel world oblige thee to recite
LXVIII Should there be nothing new beneath the sun
CXXIV Should this, my love, be held as wishful thinking
LXXXVIII Should thou my efforts mock, set all to light
CXII Should you perceive that black becometh white
LXXXVI Should you survive my epitaph to make
XXXII Should you survive the number of my days
CLII Show me another who thy praise has penned
CLIV Shrew Tamed, All's Well, though her is Much Ado
CXXVI Sickled Time is sick with jealousy
CLV Simplicity was ne'er my claim to fame
LXII Sin of self-love was mine until we met
XII Since daily do I clock hard knocks of time
CXIII Since first and last we met, I live through thee
CXIII Since I met you my eye is in my mind
LXXXII Since you were never married to my Muse
IX Single remaineth thou lest widow's tears
CL Single state seems seemly, some souls state
LXX Slander's spite to quality's attracted
LXX Sleepless nights and days devoid of rest
LXXVII Sleeps now the metroman who dreams of strikes
LXI Slumbers at thy pressing wish are broken
LII So am I as the wealthy man whose key
CXV So are our revels ended, and the game
LXXV So are you to my soul as food to life
XXIII So as an actor, stage-fright suffering
CVIII So as time serves fine wine so this serves thee
LXXIV So be content, for when the verdict's cast
LXXI So do not mourn for me when I am dead
CXVI So do not to the marriage of true minds
LX So do our minutes hasten to their end
LXXVI So far from innovations, easy change
LVIII So God forbid the day that sees me thine
CXLIV So here's confessed, my heart and head are thine
XXXIX So how, without self-praising, can I sing
XIII So if, sweet love, thy life be like a book
LVI So is it error where I would draw near
XXI So is it not with me as with that Muse
LXXXVII So leave! Farewell! Thou art for my possessing
CV So let not love be called idolatry
XXV So let those who seem lucky in their stars
XCVII So like the winter has thy absence been
XXXVIII So long as Love breathes life into the breast
XXII So long as youth and thou are of one date,
CXXII So many gifts to praise, so little space
XXXIII So many splendid mornings have I seen
CX So much 'tis true, I've gadded here and there
LXXVIII So often I've invoked thee as my Muse
CXXVIII So often when thy smallest thoughts caress
XLV So though from all four elements you're drawn
CXXIII So, Time, If mockery there be, I mock
CXXV So turn the old Khayyam and from his cup
XXXIV So was that tea-time promise made in play
C So where did you slip off to, truant Muse
XVII So who'll believe my verse in times to come
XXXI So why that promise of a Sunday tea
CXLV Soft lips that Love's own hand did make
XX Soft woman's face with Nature's own hand painted
CXXXV Some find, in seeking, pleasure undefined
XCI Some glory in their birth, some in their skill
XCVI Some say thy fault is youth and wantonness
CXXXII Some seek to turn impressions inside out
LXV Some thoughts like playful kittens trip ahead
CXVIII Something sings within me when I think
LV Sometimes I dream you'll leave the door ajar
XXX Sometimes in sessions of unhappy thought
CXLIX Sometimes surprising sweetness sweeps souls shy
CXL Sorrow lends me words which here express
XXVI Sovereign she to whose fidelity
XXVI Bis Sovereign Lord, to whom I'm vassal sworn
XLIX Spare self from sorrow let not my defects
CI Speak truant Muse, how will you make amends
LXXXV Speech is held silver, silence gold is found,
LXXXIV Speech serves no turn, what can give pleasure more
CXXI Spend time elsewhere, share not thy days with me
LXVII Spontaneous these feelers here I send
XCVIII Spring called this year, discovered we'd not met
XC Spurn me and my plea if out of place
CXXVII Stale seems all praise with, dripping from the pen
XXIX Star-cross'd, fortune lost, tossed on Fate's wave
XXVII Stark, strained from work, I will me to my bed
XIV Stars and cards cannot my judgement rule
CXI Start and finish for me are the same
CXXXIV Stay of execution do I seek
XCII Steal not away, coeval is thy life
XCIV Steal not away for ever - out of sight
LXIV Steamroller strange is Time, so prompt to wreak
CXIX Still losing when myself I sought to win
CVII Still will this fancy stay thy monument
XI Stir up the muddy waters of thy mind
CXXXIII Stolen from myself, in jail to lie
XVI Stone turns to sand, and mountains into mould
XXXV Stop, no longer grieve, believe! Who cares
XXVII Bis Strained with toil I coil within my bed
LXXXIII Strange as it sounds I felt you'd never need
XV Strange seems it that each little thing that grows
XLVIII Streams start as springs, soon into rivers stream
XL Strip all my former loves, I'll all reveal
XXIV Strong hand has played the painter here to lend
LXIX Strong is my faith, and each wraith from the Past
CII Strong is my love although no strength is seeming
XLVII Struggles cease as heart and eye ally
LXXXIV Subject or object, - roles so often turned
CXLIII Studied style, like polished mirror glass
XCIV Such as have power to hurt, yet do not so
CXV Such lines I wrote before were outright lie
IV Such loveliness as yours one should not hoard
LXVI Such separation leaves my senses weak
CXLI Suffice it that you know 'tis not my eyes
V Summer's spent while Winter's cold approaches
VII Sun in the East, the gorgeous morning light
LXIII Sunset sends shadows, yet an inner light
CXXX Sun shines far brighter than do Sandrine's eyes
LIX Sundry inventions of technology
CXLVIII Surprise seduction signals siren song
CLI Swain to shepherdess sent gentle posy
LIV Sweet beauty shines as brighter ornament
CLIII Sweet Cupid laid his bow down, fell asleep
CXXXVII Sweet Cupid what have you done to my eyes
I Sweet, from the fairest creatures we desire
LXXIX Sweet love thy face, the fountainhead of grace,
XCIX Sweet thief whence didst thou steal thy sweet
XLIII Sweet, though I blink, I'll never blinkered be,
VIII Sweet with sweet strives not, why joy with joy
LXXXII Swift does the pen in swift succession ink
CXXXI Swift in succession speed sweet thoughts when I
XIX Swift-footed Time speeds on with open jaws
CI Syllables in scintillating stream
I

From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty’s rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decease,
His tender heir might bear his memory:
But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,
Feed’st thy light’s flame with self-substantial fuel,
Making a famine where abundance lies,
Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament,
And only herald to the gaudy spring,
Within thine own bud buriest thy content,
And, tender churl, mak’st waste in niggarding.
Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
To eat the world’s due, by the grave and thee.

Sonnet I

Sweet, from the fairest creatures we desire

Sweet, from the fairest creatures we desire
An increase, so that Beauty shall not die.
Nonetheless, as naught can Time defy,
Do we oft seek in fresh genes fresher fire, -
Rare form and face! My eyes no pyre require
In that thy name sends flames none can deny,
Nursing a burning bush as broad as high, -
Embers which, self-consuming, stay entire.
Vain others, thou - lead singer, song and choir!
An angel from whose lips sips, thereby
Imbuing blooms to feed the butterfly,
Leaving envy pierced, soon to expire.
Leave just a kiss, fair Miss, I'll sated be, -
Acheron’s Numbing Tides engulf not thee!





II

When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field,
Thy youth’s proud livery, so gazed on now,
Will be a tattered weed, of small worth held:
Then being asked where all that beauty lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,
To say, within thine own deep-sunken eyes,
Were an all eating-shame, and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deserved that beauty’s use,
If thou couldst answer, - «This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse, » -
Proving his beauty by succession thine!
This were to be new-made, when thou art old,
And see thy blood warm, when thou feel’st it cold.

Sonnet II


Shall ever Winter snows besiege thy brow

Shall ever Winter snows besiege thy brow
And plough deep furrows in thy beauty's field,
Negating that proud harvest gazed on now, -
Dust turns the lily when age has revealed
Rampant wrinkles wreathing Beauty's smile.
In days to come, of care, deep sunken eyes,
No present praise will then withstand Time’s trial
Except that lustre this verse testifies.
Verdict unique would be an heir to grace
Another world, one which would foster flesh
Identical to features, form, fine face.
Leave thus a heir fair to flow'r a future fresh!
Life forms anew to warm when fires grow cold,
As Nature Trysts to stop thee growing old!


III

Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest,
Now is the time that face should form another;
Whose fresh repair is now thou not renewest,
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
For where is she so fair, whose unear’d womb
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond, will be the tomb
Of his self-love, to stop posterity?
Thou art thy mother’s glass, and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime:
So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,
Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.
But if thou live, remembered not to be,
Die single, and thine image dies with thee.

SONNET III

See in thy mirror my reflection there

See in thy mirror my reflection there
A-twinned with thine, entwined about thy waist,
Nodding in accord, and chorded fair,
Dreaming dreams both share, in love encased.
Read in thy smile another such as this,
In harmony, identity of mind, -
Nature’s magic metamorphosis
Engendered since that meeting Love has signed.
View then heart’s long lost karmic counterpart
Acceptance seeking, advocating peace
Imagine you and I can make a start
Living as one, - with joys that shall not cease.
Live single, - this can never come to be!
Ask Now Thyself, - is this felicity?


IV

Unthriftly loveliness, why dost thou spend
Upon thyself thy beauty’s legacy?
Nature’s bequest gives nothing, but doth lend;
And, being frank, she lends to those are free.
Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse
The bounteous largess given thee to give?
Profitless usurer, why dost thou use
So great a sum of sums, yet canst not live?
For, having traffic with thyself alone,
Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive.
Then how, when nature calls thee to be gone,
What acceptable audit canst thou leave?
Thy unused beauty must be tomb's with thee,
Which, used, lives th’executor to be.

Sonnet IV

Such loveliness as yours one should not hoard

Such loveliness as yours one should not hoard,
And hide as cobwebbed coffer in a bank,
Nature's gifts are lent, the purse's cord
Drawn tight by Time which ever, to be frank,
Retains in escrow int'rest. Once adored,
In days to come all lose locks, stocks and rank,
Nor can dust be by any bust restored -
End comes too soon! So, therefore, Nature thank!
Vaunt not your beauty, vaunt it not, - ignored
All heresy becomes, as wine undrank,
Is, song unsung, glass empty, poem flawed, -
Life lustreless becomes, the spirit blank.
Leave off a-musing on yourself alone,
As Nuns, The self refusing, turn to stone!


V

Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,
Will play the tyrants to the very same,
And that unfair which fairly doth excel:
For never-resting time leads summer on
To hideous winter, and confounds him there;
Sap checked with frost, and lusty leaves quite gone,
Beauty o’ersnow’d, and bareness everywhere:
Then, were not summer’s distillation left,
A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
Beauty’s effect with beauty were bereft,
Nor it, nor no remembrance what it was:
But flowers distill’d, though they with winter meet,
Lease but their show; their substance still lives sweet.

Sonnet V

Summer's spent while Winter's cold approaches

Summer's spent while Winter's cold approaches
Altering that loveliness which dwells
Now in your eyes. Vile traitor-time encroaches,
Destroying most where most youth’s gift excels.
Remaining leaves of beauty's book become
Iced over, threadbare parodies of Spring,
Nestor lies chilled, stilled Philomel’s struck dumb,
Every clock-chime tells toll's hollow ring.
Vain is Time’s labour though, for through you shines
A beauty Beauty envies, inner worth,
Innate essence which knows no declines, -
Latent liquids well below dried earth.
Light within with warmth meets Winter’s gaze,
Amazing Nature, Time, with timeless blaze!


VI

Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface
In thee thy summer, ere thou be distill’d:
Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place
With beauty’s treasure, ere it be self-killed.
That use is not forbidden usury,
Which happies those that pay the willing loan;
That’s for thyself to breed another thee,
Or ten times happier, be it ten for one:
Ten times thyself were happier than thou art,
If ten of thine ten times refigured thee.
Then what could death do if thou shouldst depart,
Leaving thee living in posterity?
Be not self-willed, for thou art much too fair
To be Death’s conquest, and make worms thine heir.

Sonnet VI

Self-willed no longer stay, thou art too fair

Self-willed no longer stay, thou art too fair,
Art cannot picture richer! - 'twere a sin,
Nameless heresy, naming worms as heir,
Depending upon thy never leaving kin.
Reproduce thy image, like a clone!
In beauty, stature, smile, none else can rhyme,
Nobility of spirit, which alone
Endures, ensuring tenderness through time.
Venture the adventure yet again,
Admit of sharing, decorate life’s tree, -
It Death would render helpless, prove Man's gain,
Leaving thee printed on posterity.
Let not Time’s sickle harvest Beauty trim,
Ageless, New Triumphs call, each cheers the brim!


VII

Lo! in the orient when the gracious light
Lifts up his burning head, each under eye
Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,
Serving with looks his sacred majesty;
And having climbed the steep-up heavenly hill,
Resembling strong youth in his middle age,
Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,
Attending on his golden pilgrimage;
But when from highmost pitch, with weary car,
Like feeble age, he reeleth from the day,
The eyes, ‘fore duteous, now converted are
From his low tract, and look another way:
So thou, thyself outgoing in thy noon,
Unlocked on diest, unless thou get a son.

Sonnet VII

Sun in the East, the gorgeous morning light

Sun in the East, the gorgeous morning light
Advances proudly while, beneath each eye
New homage pays to glory which by right
Demands that loyalty beneath the sky.
Rising firmly into middle age
It has now paced the zenith and must soon
Night’s curtain draw down darkly. So the page
Ephemeral of Life's short afternoon
Vain sinks, - and vain its tale, could not, again,
Another day dawn, warming flock and field.
Idle each echo, could not Life's refrain
Lift hopes for future joys! Time’s lock must yield!
Let Life new life engender in thy prime,
And Not Too late wait, hostage unto Time!

VIII

Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly?
Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy:
Why lov’st thou that which thou receiv’st not gladly,
Or else receiv’st with pleasure thine annoy?
If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,
By union married, do offend thine ear,
They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear.
Mark how one string, sweet husband to another,
Strikes each in each by mutual ordering;
Resembling sire and child and happy mother,
Who, all in one, one pleasing note do sing:
Whose speechless song, being many, seeming one,
Sings this to thee: « Thou single wilt prove none. »

Sonnet VIII

Sweet with sweet strives not, - why should joy with joy?

Sweet with sweet strives not, - why should joy with joy?
As music sadness sweeps away when tune
Names g(l) adding song beneath the madding moon -
Dawn bringing, night and day, - who'll never cloy.
Revive fond hopes for scope, join girl to boy,
Innate shared soul-song, therefore let us soon
Nestle in each others arms, - a boon
Ending empty spaces which annoy.
View two heartsichords are intertwined
As triple strength’s accorded, heaven sent,
If each in each can find its complement.
Links new discovered cast all doubts behind,
Life calls to life, as Jack calls to his Jill,
And Now Together both do breast Life’s hill.

IX

Is it fear to wet a widow’s eye
That thou consum’st thyself in single life?
Ah! if thou issueless shalt hap to die,
The world will wail thee, like a makeless wife;
The world will be thy widow, and still weep
That thou no form of thee hast left behind,
When every private widow well may keep
By children’s eyes her husband’s shape in mind.
Look! what an unthrift in the world doth spend
Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoys it;
But beauty’s waste hath in the world an end,
And kept unus’d, the user so destroys it.
No love toward others in that bosom sits
That on himself such murderous shame commits.

Sonnet IX

Single remaineth thou lest widow’s tears

Single remaineth thou lest widow’s tears
Awash with grief groove furrows through thy face?
Name not, fair friend, the day, misspend the years
Do true to « Carpe Diem » life embrace!
Regretting thee, Earth will thy widow be
In ruing no true likeness left behind.
Near every private widow still may see
Expressed in dimpled smiles lost spouses’s mind!
View though that those who spend too much impair
A portion of their wealth, which others stake
Is beauty aught but make-up anywhere?
Lead life still single? Is there worse mistake?
Leave none behind, who greater sin commits? -
Alas No Tenderness in that heart sits!



X

For shame! deny that thou bear’st love to any,
Who for thyself art so unprovident.
Grant, if thou wilt, thou art belov’d of many,
But that thou none lov’st is most evident;
For thou art so possess’d with murderous hate
That ’gainst thyself thou stick’s not to conspire,
Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate
Which to repair should be thy chief desire.
O! change thy thought, that I may change my mind:
Shall hate be fairer lodged than gentle love?
Be, as thy presence is gracious and kind,
Or to thyself at least kind-hearted prove:
Make thee another self, for love of me,
That beauty still may live in thine or thee.

Sonnet X

Shame should cheeks burn! In turn admired by many

Shame should cheeks burn! In turn admired by many,
All suitors spurning, - none earn answer clear.
Not sharing bliss, a-miss not loving any,
Daughterless where no son can appear.
Read in the seasons this analogy, -
Is not the Winter pregnant with the Spring,
Nor is the sun withheld, nor leaf from tree,
Exchanging rings - sweet joys rebirth does bring!
Vow none espouse unto the single state
As love, unpractised, sere upon the stem
Is arid as a barren celibate,
Listless, lost to self, who’d self condemn.
Let self find self, uniting you to me,
Advance! New Ties shall freedom guarantee!



XI

As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow’st
In one of thine, from that which thou departest;
And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow’st
Thou mayst call thine when thou from youth convertest
Herein lives wisdom, beauty and increase;
Without this, folly, age and cold decay:
If all were minded so, the times should cease
And threescore year would make the world away.
Let those whom Nature hath not made for store,
Harsh, featureless, and rude, barrenly perish:
Look, whom she best endow’d she gave the more;
Which bounteous gift thou shouldst in bounty cherish:
She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby
Thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die.

Sonnet XI

Stir up the muddy waters of my mind,

Stir up the muddy waters of my mind,
All doubts dispel, Dear, do not hesitate!
New horizons can emancipate
Dams, barriers of each and every kind.
Remember our encounter was assigned
In Heaven by the stars that rule our fate,
No fault can here be found, no grounds to state
Error entered calculations blind.
Vain were the voyage of my days, unkind
As dreams turned nightmares, disappointments great,
If inner instincts cannot liberate
Licit longings for a sign to bind
Lips to ruby lips, soul splice to soul,
And Nurse Two halves to health to make one whole.


XII

When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls, all silvered o’er with white;
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summer’s green all girded up in sheaves,
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard,
Then of thy beauty do I question make,
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
And die as fast as they see others grow;
And nothing ’gainst Time’s scythe can make defence
Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.

Sonnet XII

Since daily do I clock hard knocks of time,

Since daily do I clock hard knocks of time,
And take stock, see life’s freshness stubble, stale,
Notice Nature’s winter coat of rime
Describe spare silver shocks where age locks scale.
Regretfully, I watch notched, breeze tossed, trees
Itching for leaf fingers ‘spite cold gale
North-easterly which brings on biting freeze,
Exacting tribute harsh when powers fail.
Vain then all beauty seems, for what's most fair
At last falls fast beneath the thresher’s flail,
In eerie sheaves, - all’s harvested despair,
Limbs tremble, palsies finally prevail.
Lament not! Love alone can Time withstand,
Alliance Name - To flame let Life be fanned!


XIII

O! that you were yourself; but, love, you are
No longer yours than you yourself here live:
Against this coming end you should prepare,
And your semblance to some other give:
So should that beauty which you hold in lease
Find no determination; then you were
Yourself against, after yourself’s decease,
When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear.
Who lets so fair a housefall to decay,
Which husbandry in honour might uphold
Against the stormy gusts of winter’s day
And barren rage of death’s eternal cold?
O! none but unthrifts. Dear my love, you know
You had a father: let your son say so.

Sonnet XIII

So if, sweet love, thy life be like a book

So if, sweet love, thy life be like a book
Allow a new edition to impress
Nature’s stamp with likeness true, arrest
Destruction Time would wreak. No second look
Remains where childless beauty’s self's mistook
In error for eternal mirror blessed.
No graceful trace remains when, gone to rest,
Earth greets the spendthrift who rebirth forsook.
Vivacious copies Time can overlook,
And publish banns, then quickly go to press
In copyright - posterity addressed:
Living proofs, complete works’ copybook.
Life’s mission leads to fusion not confusion,
All New Things seed infusion not conclusion!


XIV

Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck;
And yet methinks I have astronomy,
But not to tell of good or evil luck,
Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons’ quality;
Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,
Pointing to each his thunder, rain, and wind,
Or say with princes if it shall go well,
By oft predict that I in heaven find:
But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,
And, constant stars, in them I read such art
As ‘ Truth and beauty shall together thrive,
If from thyself to store thou wouldn't convert’;
Or else of thee this I prognosticate:
‘ Thy end is truth’s and beauty’s doom and date.’

Sonnet XIV

Stars and cards cannot my judgement rule

Stars and cards cannot my judgement rule,
And yet methinks I’m blessed with intuition.
News is learnt in many a different school,
Descriptions do abound of precognition.
Responsibility I shed, play cool
In tempting fate through palming recognition,
Nor pick the winner of the football pool
Vast as my wisdom seems, one starry pool
Extrapolating numbers sans volition.
Affronts my knowledge, exiles superstition, -
It drowns my will, fuels fire till I, thy fool,
Long for twinned plans to breed a fair fruition.
Lama-like one karmic truth I’d see: -
All Nature t(r) ending to the me in thee!


XV

When I consider every thing that grows
Holds in perfection but a little moment,
That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows
Whereon the stars in secret influence comment;
When I perceive that men as plants increase,
Cheered and check’d even by the self-same sky,
Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,
And wear their brave state out of memory;
Then the conceit of this inconstant stay
Sets you most rich in youth before my sight,
Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay,
To change your day of youth to sullied night;
And, all in war with Time for love of you,
As he takes from you, I engraft you new.

Sonnet XV

Strange that each little thing takes long to grow

Strange that each little thing takes long to grow,
Attains perfection for the shortest space;
Naught does the Earth contain but it does show
Due respect for timely planets’ place.
Regarding men, plants, insects, all increase
In awe of equal laws beneath one sky, -
New once, once bold, then old, then, cold, they cease,
Extinguished by Time which naught can defy.
Vicissitudes thy youth shall never touch
As long as ears can hear, or eyes can see,
In these short stanzas, freed from Death’s dread clutch,
Life eternal these confer on thee!
Likeness faithful stands Time’s test, stays true,
All Night’s Terrors takes, to wake anew!

XVI

But wherefore do not you a mightier way
Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time?
And fortify yourself in your decay
With means more blessed than my barren rime?
Now stand you on the top of happy hours,
And many maiden gardens, yet unset,
With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers,
Much liker than your painted counterfeit:
So should the lines of life that life repair,
Which this, Time’s pencil, or my pupil pen,
Neither in inward worth nor outward fair,
Can make you live yourself in eyes of men.
To give away yourself keeps yourself still;
And you must live, drawn by your own sweet skill.

Sonnet XVI

Stone flakes to sand, and mountains melt to mould,

Stone flakes to sand, and mountains melt to mould,
As Time’s transgressions etch on day by day
Nature’s plans, while continents enfold.
Death conquers all, Life leads but to decay.
Rival factions fail, their tale soon told
In words where glory seldom finds its way.
Next door neighbours huddle who were bold, -
Ephemeral their rise, long their dismay.
Volcanoes, active once, are turned stone cold,
As lifeless as museum mammoth’s sway.
Ideas too often perish, tenets sold,
Lost flower’s blooms no chronicles defray.
Lost too are battles fought against grim Time, -
And Now To bed before I lose my rhyme!


XVII

Who will believe my verse in time to come,
If it were fill’d with your most high deserts?
Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb
Which hides your life and shows not half your parts.
If I could write the beauty of your eyes
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
The age to come would say ‘ This poet lies;
Such heavenly touches ne’er touch’d earthly faces.’
So should my papers, yellow’d with their age,
Be scorn’d, like old men of less truth than tongue,
And your true rights be term’d a poet’s rage
And stretched metre of an antique song:
But were some child of yours alive that time,
You should live twice, - in it and in my rime.

Sonnet XVII

So who’ll believe my verse in times to come

So who’ll believe my verse in times to come,
As it words worth in prose beyond compare,
Notwithstanding that my tongue's struck dumb, -
Disguising as it does thy beauty rare.
Ronsard had found Cassandra’s mind most numb
If thine beside it sparkled. Not just there, -
Nose fine? Poor Cleopatra scarce a crumb
E ‘er could have gleaned from Antony, I swear!
Venus spurning, Paris would a plum
Advance to match thy lips, leave Helen’s care.
In Juliet no Romeo would hum
Love’s tune, but moon thy praise, all else foreswear!
Lacking children thou art all life’s sum,
A Nappied Thigh? - thy days’ redoubled drum!


XVIII

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:
Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often in his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometimes declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st;
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.


Sonnet XVIII

Shall I compare her to a summer’s day?

Shall I compare her to a summer’s day?
A thousand times more sweet she seems to me!
Nor can Time ’s winds - (which darling buds of May
Do shake) - unsettle love’s perennity.
Restrained the eye of heaven sometimes seems,
It often sends a drought, or shines too hot,
No permanence is possible, like dreams
Each season soon declines, returneth not!
Vain are Time’s wings when with eternal signs
A poet frames her praises in fair verse,
Imprinting, for the Future, lyric lines,
Lending life when all else finds a hearse.
Life glories her as long as Man draws breath,
And Not To her the shadow-land of Death!


Sonnet XVIII Bis

Shall I Compare Thee to a Game of Chess?


Shall I compare thee to a game of chess?
Thou art not square, nor see in black and white!
Rough moves make others, summer’s sun doth bless
Thy smile, night turns to day, and pawn to knight.
Sometimes too fast Life’s clock to sudden death
Advances yet thy beauty knows no check,
While Polgar’s pride resigns, thy modest breath
No castles in the air would build, then wreck.
Love’s referee wears well a cap that fits!
No gambits blunt thy spontaneity,
No Kasparov in pupil’s eye could spit,
No Fis[c]her Queen could Queen exchange with me!
Let us no bishop mate above the board,
We’ll stand Time’s test, King, Queen, though never bored!

Sonnet XVIII Ter

Shall I Compare Thee? In What Galaxy?

Shall I compare thee? In what galaxy,
And when and where, which mirror will reflect
Nature’s beauty with such wisdom decked? -
Despising self, Time rhymes in time with thee!
Rash proves comparison where thou the sun
Incarnate are, and universal joy,
Now Big Bang starts again - all else are glum
Exchange with you all would, - no idle ploy;
Valiant the name that frames the « all in one »
As end, beginning are you, fruit and tree,
Inside and out, earth, sea, both butter, bun,
Life with all life coeval, past, to be!
Let then thy seed succeed to play fresh part,
Arrangements Necessary Take to heart!

XIX

Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion’s paws,
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger ’s jaws,
And burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood;
Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets,
And do whate’er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
To the wide world and all her fading sweets;
But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:
O! Carve not with thy hours my love’s fair brow,
Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;
Him in thy course untainted do allow
For Beauty’s pattern to succeeding men.
Yet, do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong,
My love shall in my verse ever live young.


Sonnet XIX

Swift-footed Time speeds on with open jaws,

Swift-footed Time speeds on with open jaws,
Avidly regardless of our lives,
New seconds swallow seconds, each arrives
Devouring every minute that it draws
Redundant from its womb. Effect and cause
Intermingle, lose the thread that strives
Needle’s eye to wed, - all lose their drives,
End entombed, will doomed is all applause.
Victory is thine! Thy eagle soars
Above mere mortals’ skies: each thinks he (t) h(r) ives,
Intensely busy! Rarely love survives
Lust, honey-money search, which knows no pause.
Lastingly will your fair fame hold out, -
Ask Not Time’s mercy who Time’s rei(g) n can flout!

XX

A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted
Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;
A woman’s gentle heart, but not acquainted
With shifting change, as is false women's fashion;
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,
Gilding the object whereupon it gazette;
A man in hue all « hues » in his controlling,
Which steals men’s eyes and women’s souls amazeth.
And for a woman wert thou first created;
Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,
And by addition me of thee defeated,
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
But since she picked thee out for women’s pleasure,
Mine be thy love, and thy love’s use their treasure.

Sonnet XX

Soft dainty face with Nature’s own hand painted

Soft dainty face with Nature’s own hand painted
Art thou, the master-mistress of my passion;
Nobility with falsehood unacquainted,
Despising changeling fads of changing fashion.
Responsive eye, bright, brighter than all others,
Iridescent everywhere it touches,
Night’s put to flight, your light all envy smothers,
Enchanting all, untouched by vulgar smutches
Vacuums unknown within your universe
Are as around you all in orbit spin,
In ringing acts each does his play rehearse,
Like Mars to Venus, would your honour win.
Love is not love which mortal hand can measure, -
Alas Now Tongueless, can I earn thy treasure?

XXI

So is it not with me as with that Muse
Stirr’d by a painted beauty to his verse,
Who heaven itself for ornament doth use
And every fair with his fair doth rehearse,
Making a complement of proud compare,
With sun and moon, with earth and sea’s rich gems,
With April’s first-born flowers, and all things rare
That heaven’s air in this huge rondure hems.
O! let me, true in love, but truly write,
And then believe me, my love is as fair
As any mother’s child, though not so bright
As those gold candles fixed in heaven’s air:
Let them say more that like of hear-say well;
I will not praise that purpose not to sell.

Sonnet XXI

So is it not with me as with that Muse

So is it not with me as with that Muse
Awoken by poor painted sparks to verse
Niceties which Heaven’s name misuse,
Dispenses praise, deserving the reverse.
Refusing compliments which Truth abuse,
I only see one smile as poet’s purse!
No future generations can accuse
Exaggerations which they could accurse:
Verity’s a thread I would not lose,
And fain to fair I e’er would reimburse
Its flower which, comparing, none refuse!
Loveliness spurns fard, stays none the worse!
Let all praise more who stories tall would tell, -
A Nectar Tablet, honeyed, wears not well!

XXII

My glass shall not persuade me I am old
So long as youth and thou are of one date;
But when in thee time’s furrows I behold,
Then look I death my days should expiate.
For all that beauty that doth cover thee
Is but the seemly raiment of my heart,
Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me:
How can I then be elder than thou art?
O! therefore, love, be of thyself so wary
As I, not for myself, but for thee will;
Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary
As tender nurse her babe from faring ill.
Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain;
Thou gav’st me thine, not to give back again.

Sonnet XXII

So long as you and youth do share one date

So long as you and youth do share one date,
All mirrors will warmth witness, never (s) cold; -
Nature granting treason reason’s weight,
Declines the challenge once your story’s told.
Remember Beauty's but a plastic cover,
Is but external matter for man’s mart,
Nurture then the heart of artless lover,
Endless joy that knows nor stop nor start.
Very wary be of love therefore,
Aware that pearls I’d keep, as have mine kept, -
In life and death, earth, heaven, our rapport
Lights sparks which die not, though it seems they’ve slept.
Likewise our ties all others will outlast,
Awakened Now, The karmic dice are cast!

XXIII

As an unperfect actor on the stage,
Who with his fear is put besides his part,
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart;
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love’s rage,
And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay,
Oe’ercharg’d with burthen of mine own love’s might.
O! let my books be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,
Who plead for love, and look for recompense,
More than the tongue that more hath more express’d.
O! learn to read what silent love hath writ:
To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit.

Sonnet XXIII

So as an actor, stage-fright suffering

So as an actor, stage-fright suffering,
Afeared, I tremble deep with my heart.
Nor can my voice rehearse, nor tongue impart.
Distressed my soul, no part, no role can sing!
Refraining from refrains which joy could bring
I hesitate, and, stuttering, can’t start
New praise to raise to her whose highest art
Enjoys an artless ring, - round her I’d ring;
Vouchsafe that love at last will lose its sting,
And twin two sundered souls too far apart.
I pray the day will dawn when I my part
Learn to perfection, setting sound waves’ spring:
Learn too to read what silent love has writ,
Approach Nirvana’s Tenderness, two knit.

XXIV

Mine eye hath play’d the painter and hath stell’d
Thy beauty’s form in table of my heart;
My body is the frame wherein ‘tis held,
And perspective it is best painter’s art.
For through the painter must you see his skill,
To find where your true image pictur’d lies,
Which in thy bosom’s shop is hanging still,
That hath his windows glazèd with thine eyes.
Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:
My eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee;
Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art,
They draw but what they see, but not the heart.

Sonnet XXIV

Strong hand has played the painter here to lend

Strong hand has played the painter here to lend
A timeless touch to beauty’s fondest child,
Now catch impressions mild, expressions wild,
Depicting her in whom all talents blend.
Rare harmony: The angels will descend -
If they exist - enlisting her who’s styled
Nature’s darling, pure and undefiled,
Endless bliss bestowing, kiss sans end.
Verses, written, each each other mend.
Artist tries to show here reconciled
Infinite delights, all domiciled,
Linked to fair where all else do pretend
Love’s eyes lose art, loose arrows which light race,
And Now The bow here bends to drawn embrace!

XXV

Let those who are in favour with their stars
Of public honour and proud titles boast,
While I, whom fortune of such triumph bars,
Unlocked for joy in that I honour most.
Great princes’ favourites their fair leaves spread
But as the marigold at the sun’s eye,
And in themselves their pride lies burièd,
For at a frown they in their glory die.
The painful warrior famousèd for fight,
After a thousand victories once foiled,
Is from the book of honour razèd quite,
And all the rest forgot for which he toiled:
Then happy I, that love and am belov’d,
Where I may not remove nor be removed.

Sonnet XXV

So let those who seem lucky in their stars,

So let those who seem lucky in their stars,
And public honour, who proud titles boast,
Now know that no hash destiny debars
Duets where heart lauds heart it loves the most.
Roses ripen out beneath Love’s sun,
In times of stress their pride lost patience learns,
New loves replace the old, and, scarce begun,
Enjoy short lease as elsewhere ardour turns.
Vain others are, eclipsed, an empty sight,
An afterthought, rejected by the mind, -
In you alone lives undiminished, bright,
Lantern leaving shadow shapes behind.
Love grows to glow as hand and glove are paired,
Attainted Never, Tried and tested, shared!

XXVI

Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage
Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit,
To thee I send this written ambassage,
To witness duty, not to show my wit:
Duty so great, which wit so poor as mine
May make seem bare, in wanting words to show it,
But that I hope some good conceit of thine
In thy soul’s thought, all nakèd, will bestow it;
Till whatsoever star that guides my moving
Points on me graciously with fair aspect,
And puts apparel on my tattered loving,
To show me worthy of thy sweet respect:
Then may I dare to boast how I do love thee;
Till then not show my head where thou mayst prove me.

Sonnet XXVI

Sovereign lady, paid be homage due

Sovereign lady, paid be homage due
At all times as a duty strongly knit,
Nor can it falter as the stars pursue
Divided orbits, - alters not a whit.
Real homage due, - my poor wit has no clue
Impotent despairs of how to show it,
Nerves over-stretched to fetch a valid view,
Exaggerate not - all the world does know it.
Value this, if this brings joy to you,
And if offending, an imperfect fit,
Impatient prove not, tolerant thereto,
Let judgement harsh remit a little bit.
Like bread which needs an added yeast to rise,
Ample Nutrition The least smile supplies!


Sonnet XXVI Bis

Sovereign lord, to whom I'm vassal sworn,

Sovereign lord, to whom I'm vassal sworn,
Admirer to a duty doubly knit,
Now I do send a message true and fit -
Divided duties set the soul in pawn.
Rising above Time's silken spider touch
Is love which on itself can ever feed,
Needing only love's return to seed
Eternal echoes, - taking naught gives much.
Vanquished, victor, are terms double-Dutch,
Anachronistic, worms which blight bud, weed
Invasive for which we've grown beyond the need -
Less to impress how tasteless waste can smutch
Let these words stand in limbo till proved true
Am I who dare not boast love felt by few.

XXVII

Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear repose for limbs with travel tired;
But then begins a journey in my head
To work my mind, when body’s work’s expired:
For then my thoughts - from far where I abide -
Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
Looking on darkness which the blind to see:
Save that my soul’s imaginary sight
Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night,
Makes black night beauteous and her old face new.
Lo! thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind,
For thee, and for myself no quiet find.

Sonnet XXVII

Strained with toil, I coil within my bed

Strained with toil, I coil within my bed
And turmoil seek to stifle, foiled and tired,
Not blessed with rest, for soon a brain storm’s sired,
Doth fountain forth fantastical, the head
Retraces image fair where, there, instead,
Is empty space to chase when, dream inspired,
Nightly follow love, so deep admired.
Ear imagines, eyelids shut, soft tread
Visiting at witching hour, soon sped.
At night hopes dawn, at morn take flight, desired
In symphony fantastic fever-fired,
Led on by music that the muses fed
Love waves to love in echoes long to (l) earn,
And Naught Takes that it triple can’t return.

XXVIII

How can I then return in happy plight
That am debarred the benefit of rest?
When day’s oppression is not eased by night,
But day by night, and night by day oppressed,
And each, though enemies to either’s reign,
Do in consent shake hands to torture me,
The one by toil, the other to complain
How far I toil, still farther off from thee.
I tell the day, to please him thou art bright,
And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven:
So flatter I the swart-complexion’d night;
When sparkling stars twice not thou gild’st the even.
But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,
And night doth nightly make grief’s strength seem stronger.

Sonnet XXVIII

Separate from you, what sorry plight

Separate from you, what sorry plight
Aborts all sleep, as aching brains protest -
Nagging thoughts return, as you have guessed,
Directly to you who, though out of sight,
Remain too much in mind! To black turns white!
Insomnia, no rest, day - night oppressed!
Nor can night welcome solace as its guest,
Easing into dreams with switched off light.
Virtue to vice transmuted is, all's blight
Apart from you - whose beauty's manifest.
If this is sin, then gladly I'll confess
Life's sadness clouds what once Hope burnished bright!
And luckless days do draw my sorrow longer
Nights never cease, Their torment ever stronger!


XXIX

When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself, and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man’s art, and that man’s scope,
With that I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Happly I think on thee, - and then my state,
Like to the lark of break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate;
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

Sonnet XXIX

Star-crossed, fortune lost, tossed on Fate's wave

Star-crossed, fortune lost, tossed on Fate's wave,
Abandoned I bewail my sorry state,
Nor fail to trouble friends or celebrate
Deep distress as victim none can save.
Regretting other's talents, surly knave,
I'm satisfied with naught, - degenerate!
Naught pleases, nothing eases, still I wait
Envying all, thoughts dark locked in my cave:
Vain strife is life which spirit does enslave!
And then my thoughts to you turn, fears abate,
I spring from earth, sing hymns at Heaven's gate,
Lark like I thank my God for all he gave!
Listen, thy love remembered such wealth brings
As Night's Trials scorn I, would not change for kings!

XXX

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sight the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time’s wast:
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night,
And weep afresh love’s song since cancelled woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanished sight:
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o’er
The sad account of fore-bemoanèd moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restored and sorrows end.

Sonnet XXX

Sometimes in sessions of unhappy thought

Sometimes in sessions of unhappy thought
Are minds reminded of lost chances passed,
Nursing grudges, grieving omissions vast,
Distressed as fly fast in Fate's cobweb caught.
Rest who can find? Repose cannot be bought.
In times of reminiscence, fears' repast,
New tears for old friends flow, who Life's outcast,
Engathered by the years, and yet still sought.
Visitor to grief, to whom unsought
Ancient griefs return before the mast
Is unmanned, is dismantled, and at last,
Life's debt repaying, berthed, docked back in port.
Lethe's stream no beam could cross, dream through, -
Although Now There's in you exception true.


XXXI

Thy bosom is endearèd with all hearts,
Which I by lacking have supposèd dead;
And there reigns Love, and all Love’s loving parts,
And all those friends that I thought burièd.
How many a holy and obsequious tear
Hath dear religious love stol’n from mine eye,
As interest of the dead, which now appear
But things removed that hidden in thee lie!
Thou art the grave where buried love doth live,
Hung with the trophies of my lovers gone,
Who all their parts of me to thee did give,
That due of many now is thine alone:
Their images I loved I view in thee,
And thou - all they- - hast all the all of me.

Sonnet XXXI

So why that promise of a Sunday tea

So why that promise of a Sunday tea
At Shakespeare's in the tumbleweed hotel?
No smile appeared, or, peering, sped! Ah well!
Despite an invitation offered thee
Reste à savoir pourquoi ta chase stayed free.
I thought acceptance cast a magic spell,
Non 'filer à l'anglaise'! Mes doutes dispel!
Explain why mon cœur ached perceptibly.
Virtue, fair Queen, is punctuality,
A puncture absence is, as I've heard tell !
It must have been as if an inner bell
Lightly tinkled, warned you'd warm to me !
Let this short explanation stand Time's test,
And Now Two hearts, united, can be blessed.


XXXII

If thou survive my well-contented day,
When that churl death my bones with dust shall cover,
And shall by fortune once more re-survey
These poor rude lines of thy deceasèd lover,
Compare them with the bettering of the time,
And though they be outstripp’d by every pen,
Reserve them for my love, not for their rime,
Exceeded by the heights of happier men.
O! then vouchsafe me but this loving thought:
« Had my friend’s Muse grown with this growing age,
A dearer birth than this his love had brought,
To march in ranks of better equipage:
But since he died, and poets better prove,
Theirs for their style I’ll read, his for his love. »

Sonnet XXXII

Should You Survive

Should you survive the number of my days,
Attest to buried bones and grounded hope,
Nervous, by chance, perhaps this book you'll ope,
Dead hand re-reading, once I've gone my ways.
Read and compare to novel comets' blaze,
Identify with instinct's gyroscope
Not for their style, those lines whose timely scope
Extracts pure love distilled in every phrase.
Vouchsafe me then some thoughts: - their shortest rays
Advancing through the shrouds that telescope
In clo(u) ds around my grave let me elope,
Leave Death brought back to life, your paraphrase.
Leaf others for their style, brief smile reserve -
As Now Thou dost - for him whose love won't swerve.



XXXIII

Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;
Anon permit the basest clouds to ride
With ugly rack on his celestial face,
And from the forlorn world his visage hide,
Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace:
Even so my sun one early morn did shine,
With all-triumphant splendour on my brow;
But, out! alack! he was but one hour mine,
The region cloud hath masked him from me now.
Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth;
Suns of the world may stain when heaven’s sun staineth.

Sonnet XXXIII

So Many Splendid Mornings

So many splendid mornings have I seen
Array the slopes with g(l) adding golden eye,
Nudging with gilded touch vales, village green,
Drenching pale streams with golden alchemy.
Read on a while, - a pile of ugly clouds
Interspace themselves twixt sun and I.
Nature's joys turn grey as darkness shrouds
Eastern delights, Spring sunlight do deny.
Vosges virtue met one day 'neath sunny sky,
An all embracing splendour kissed both brows.
In one short hour sun hid, tears droned the dry,
Life's current swept all on! Where am I now?
Life's current swept all on, love knew no more,
And Now The thought, - I'm rich who know I'm poor!

XXXIV

Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day,
And make me travel forth without my cloak,
To let base clouds o’ertake me in my way,
Hiding thy bravery in their rotten smoke
‘Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break,
To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face,
For no man well of such a salve can speak,
That heals the wound and cures not the disgrace:
Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief;
Though thou repent, yet have I still the loss:
The offender’s sorrow lends but weak relief
To him that bear’s the strong offence’s cross.
Ah! but those tears are pearl why thy love sheds,
And they are rich and ransom all ill deeds.

Sonnet XXXIV

So was that tea-time promise made in play?

So was that tea-time promise made in play?
An oath that took me out without a cloak, -
Non obstat autumn's chill I'd not delay!
Do you see how soft dreams to hard facts woke?
Rain on my cheeks bespeaks a salty taste,
It saw a storm cloud burst upon my brow.
Now I don't rue what once I held a waste, -
Exalting you I'd wait past year 'two thou'!
Visions can in life true life surpass,
Add s(t) inging tingle spinning down the spine
If I was cat I'd rat no hour-glass,
Lick time awaiting you for all lives nine!
Life's upsets sometimes tables turn on sadness,
A 'No' To 'Yes, next time' grants triple gladness.


XXXV

No more be grieved at that which thou hast done:
Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud;
Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,
And loathsome canker sleeps in sweetest bud.
All men make faults, and even I in this,
Authorizing thy trespass with compare,
Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss,
Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are;
For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense, -
Thy adverse party is thy advocate, -
And ‘gainst myself a lawful plea commence:
Such civil war is in my love and hate,
That I an accessory needs be
To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.

Sonnet XXXV

Stop, No longer Grieve

Stop, no longer grieve, believe! Who caress
About inclusions where the gemstone glows,
Nor fret the roses' thorns, the stream that flows
Down to an ocean heedless of our prayers.
Rise up above the terror that despairs
In an eclipse sun, moon, - for soon it blows;
Nor shun one's faults, (though run from surface shows) , -
Errors are mended where Love's hand repairs.
View this sharing, which future joy prepares,
As an advance for story none shall close,
In light and laughter friends embrace old foes,
Lauding those entangled in Love's snares.
Let imperfections be Love's guarantee,
And Not The fairy-tale that others see.

XXXVI

Let me confess that we two must be twain
Although our undivided loves are one:
So shall those blots that do with me remain,
Without thy help, by me be borne alone.
In our two loves there is but one respect,
Though in our loves a separable spite,
Which, though it alter not love’s sweet effect,
Yet doth it steal sweet hours from love’s delight.
I may not evermore acknowledge thee,
Les my bewailed guilt should do thee shame,
Nor thou with public kindness honour me,
Unless thou take that honour from thy name.
But do not so; I love thee in such sort
As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.

Sonnet XXXVI

Shall I confess

Shall I confess that we two should be twain
Although deep love has undivided grown?
Now know my errors do in me remain
Despite thy aid, fair maid, - in me alone.
Respect belongs to thee, while I, (in tow) ,
Imprinted are thy deeds, etched in the mind,
Note every gesture, echo each to show
Excused are sins when sin is left behind.
Vast is thy honour, mine reflected glory,
A shadow's shadow till you dole it out,
I'm as an author whose rejected story
Looks to be published, printed not is nowt!
Light of thy light I (s) well out into press
And Now Thee the public can impress.

XXXVII

As a decrepit father takes delight
To see his active child do deeds of youth,
So I, made lame by fortune’s dearest spite,
Take all my comfort from thy worth and truth.
For whether beauty, truth, or wealth, or wit,
Or any of these all, or all, or more,
Entitled in thy parts do crownèd sit,
I make my love engrafted to this store:
So then I am not lame, poor, or despis’d,
Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give
That I in thy abundance am suffic’d
And by a part of all thy glory live.
Look what is best, that best I wish in thee:
This wish I have; then ten times happy me.

Sonnet XXXVII

Shirking to show my worth

Shirking to show my worth I do delight
And find joy praising thy accomplishments.
Now, undermined by Time and Fortune's spite,
Do I worth, comfort, draw from thy wit, sense.
Repudiating others, day and night,
It seems in dreams I fly to thy defense.
Night masks the fury of my forward flight -
Energy refulled at thy expense!
Venturing so often, dear, I might
A moment free my inner effervescence
In finding in thy love essential light: -
Look deep, I reap in sleep soft deliquescence.
Look once again, what's best for thee I'd see,
And Ne'er The stakes of Time shall conquer thee!

XXXVIII

How can my Muse want subject to invent,
While thou dost breathe, that pour’st into my verse
Thine own sweet argument, too excellent
For every vulgar paper to rehearse?
O! give thyself the thanks if aught in me
Worthy perusal stand against thy sight;
For who’s so dumb but cannot write to thee,
When thou thyself dost give invention light?
Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth
Than those old nine which rimers invocate;
And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth
Eternal numbers to outlive long date.
If my slight Muse do please these curious days,
The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.

Sonnet XXXVIII

So long as love breathes life

So long as love breathes life into thy breast
A Muse is mine which mines its verse in thee,
Nor can sleep come to soul that seeks no rest, -
Drawn through a dream towards eternity.
Replunging pen in ink my all's addressed
In thanks to thee whose love spells liberty,
Nor can there be another, I've confessed,
Entitled to such honours - all agree.
Vulgar paper, with thy name impressed,
Attains a state of grace and quality, -
It would stay blank with shame, its blush repressed,
Left virgin, or to others offered free.
Let all on high superlatives admit,
Are Nine The Muses? - above all you sit !

XXXIX

O! how thy worth with manners may I sing,
When thou art all the better part of me?
What can mine own praise to mine own self bring?
And what is’t but mine own when I praise thee?
Even for this let us divided live,
And our dear love lose name of single one,
That by this separation I may give
That due to thee, which thou deserv’st alone.
O absence! what a torment wouldst thou prove,
Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave
To entertain the time with thoughts of love,
Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive,
And thou that teachest how to make one twain,
By praising him here who doth hence remain.

Sonnet XXXIX

So how, without self praising, can I sing?

So how, without self praising, can I sing?
A hymn to her who magic muse inspires?
None can imagine that my everything
Derives from her soft soul-song, angel choirs.
Riddle one line, to two hearts it belongs,
Imparted parts each part of each becomes,
Nor can the singer parted be from songs -
Especially when her strings his finger strums.
Virginal, the music entertains, -
And Time, bemused by rhyme, forgets his task, -
It sings with ring both sweet and free from stains,
Lulled by a love no other love would ask.
Lacking her style I'll still draw from her smile
And Never Think on others all the time.

XL

Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all;
What hadst thou then more than thou hadst before?
No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call;
All mine was thine before thou hadst this more.
Then, if for my love thou my love receivest,
I cannot blame thee for my love thou usest;
But yet be blam’d, if thou thyself deceivest
By wilful taste of what thyself refusest.
I do forgive thy robbery, gentle, thief,
Although thou steal thee all my poverty:
And yet, love knows it is a greater grief
To bear love’s wrong than hate’s unknown injury.
Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,
Kill me with spite; yet we must not be foes.
Sonnet XL

Strip all my former loves, I'll all reveal

Strip all my former loves, I'll all reveal,
All mine was thine before for more you'd call!
No love was love compared to what I feel -
Death is not death whatever shall befall.
Resurrection is Love lived again,
If karmic consciousness cheats Time, the thief,
Never doubt, for in loss all find gain,
Eternal cycles turn upon belief.
Vedic scriptures tell Love lasts a Yug,
And so no grief should echo in my heart,
If life flows from pre-destined water jug, -
Let then the spokes wheel, - weal spoke - we'll a part!
Love stripped is cloth of gold which, soon resown,
Admits New Tenderness, draws life from stone.

XLI

Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits,
When I am sometime absent from thy heart,
Thy beauty and thy years full well befits,
For still temptation follows where thou art.
Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won,
Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assailed;
And when a woman woos, what woman’s son
Will sourly leave her till she have prevailed?
Ay me! but yet though might my seat forbear,
And chide thy beauty and thy straying youth,
Who lead thee in their riot even there
Where thou art forced to break a twofold truth; -
Hers, by thy beauty tempting her to thee,
Thine, by thy beauty being false to me.

Sonnet XLI

Should Muse to music set thy symphony

Should Muse to music set thy symphony
All Mozart's art would tart sound, out of tune,
Nor lovers' eyes behold the crescent moon,
Dance and sculpture seem pure harmony.
Ravel's Bolero spirals through the mind,
It whirls and twirls, thy thoughts my brain do spin!
Nirvana's circles knit with Yang and Yin
Enjoined, with seventh heaven left behind!
Vexations fade as love's kaleidoscope
A coat of many colours does project, -
Is it a sin of self-love to erect
Love's icon image as eternal hope?
Let object - aim and act - objections thwart,
Accord New Trust which falsehoods brings to naught.

XLII

That thou hast her, it is not all my grief,
And yet it may be said I loved her dearly;
That she hath thee, is of my wailing chief,
A loss in love that touches me more nearly.
Loving offenders, thus will I excuse thee:
Thou dost love her, because thou know'st I love her;
And for my sake even so doth she abuse me,
Suffering my friend for my sake to approve her.
If I lose thee, my loss is my love's gain,
And losing her, my friend hath found that loss;
Both find each other, and I lose both twain,
And both for my sake lay on me this cross:
But here's the joy, my friend and I are one,
Sweet flattery! Then she loves but me alone.

Sonnet XLII

Send me a smile - I'll really go to town!

Send me a smile - I'll really go to town!
And paint it rich in coral like thy lips.
Now take it back, replace it with a frown, -
Dread death I'd rather face, take poisoned sips!
Rest by my side I'll glide beyond the starts,
Impertinent when lips' slips strips all sense.
Now leave, I'd heave a sigh behind tight bars -
Each moment's bliss imprisoned, pain intense.
Verse but a tear, floods would engulf the earth,
And Afric's sands sink deep below the waves.
Invest another smile and bless'd rebirth
Life's sun would circles run round she who saves!
Lame is my claim to fame save in one thing, -
All Noble This, wrought through heart's constant ring.

XLIII

When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see,
For all the day they view things unsuspected;
But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,
And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed.
Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,
How would thy shadow's form form happy show
To the clear day with thy much clearer light,
When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so!
How would, I say, mine eyes be blessèd made
By looking on thee in the living day,
When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade
Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!
All days are nights to see till I see thee,
And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.

Sonnet XLIII

Sweet, though I blink, I'll never blinkered be,

Sweet, though I blink, I'll never blinkered be
As when I think my thoughts from thee do fly.
No wink could wing its way to fairer eye,
Deep links unite each part to part of thee!
Reality and dreams combine, I see
In light and dark one face, one grace espy,
No other trace I wheresoe'er I try -
Ephemeral all seems save thee in me!
Vegas brightness stirs not starry sea,
A nova soon is over, - passing sigh.
Insight flashes, but old echoes die,
Light blazes just to praise thy tapestry.
Last night my dreams united us, I swear,
And Now, Tonight, I see thee everywhere.

XLIV

If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,
Injurious distance should not stop my way,
For then, despite of space, I would be brought
From limits far remote, where thou dost stay.
No matter then although my foot did stand
Upon the farthest earth removed from thee;
For nimble thought can jump both see and land,
As soon as think the place where he should be.
But ah! thought kills me that I am not thought
To leap large length of miles when thou art gone,
But that, so much of earth and water wrought,
I must attend time's leisure with my moan;
Receiving nought by elements so slow
But heavy tears, badges of either's woe.

Sonnet XLIV

Should Chance or base design divide us twain

Should Chance or base design divide us twain,
A steed to you would speed should there be need.
None can prevent Love which would true remain
Despite the bad blood Time spills, time to feed.
Repudiating danger, I would race,
If you should call, my all would fall for you,
Ne'er hesitation know - woe's dark disgrace !
Each breath from you fans inspiration true.
Valiant the world where hard knocks, coward hearts
Are from the mind expelled, truth triumphs, few
Itineraries fail where love's light charts
Links which unite you to me, me to you.
Leagues seven single stride would take when we
A New Tryst make, break bread, wake wed yet free.

XLV

The other two, slight air and purging fire
Are both with thee, wherever I abide;
The first my thought, the other my desire
These present-absent with swift motion slide.
For when these quicker elements are gone
In tender embassy of love to thee,
My life, being made of four, with two alone
Sinks down to death, oppressed with melancholy;
Until life's composition be recurred
By those swift messengers returned from thee,
Who even but now come back again, assured
Of thy fair health, recounting it to me:
This told, I joy; but then no longer glad,
I send them back again and then grow sad.

Sonnet XLV


So though from all four elements you're drawn

So though from all four elements you're drawn
Air, Fire and Water, adding Earth thereto,
Neither Art nor Science can thy dawn
Duplicate or clone, etch, ink anew.
Regressing from within, some selves do war,
In idle fancies others waste their days,
Now some, though well intentioned, still stay poor, -
Excepting you to Time each tribute pays.
Vain are lives led in fear of Lethe's brook,
As once interred their memory will rot,
Is there but one who leaves upon life's book
Love's imprint ere his phantom is forgot ?
Let Earth unwatered by thy (f) air become
As News That's false, as fire unlit, as numb.

XLVI

Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,
How to divide the conquest of thy sight;
Mine eye my heart thy picture's sight would bar,
My heart mine eye the freedom of that right.
My heart does plead that thou in him dost lie, -
A closet never pierced with crystal eyes, -
But the defendant doth that plea deny,
And says in him thy fair appearance lies.
To 'cide this title is impannellèd
A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart;
And by their verdict is determinèd
The clear eye's moiety and the dear heart's part:
As thus; mine eye's due is thine outward part,
And my heart's right thine inward love of heart.

Sonnet XLVI

See you the struggles twixt my heart and mind ?

See you the struggles twixt my heart and mind ?
As each does preach within its special reach
Neither's content, and each would each impeach,
Doubts heart on judgement calls, mind flouts feelings blind, -
Referee impartial who can find?
It is my heart that here would you beseech,
No hesitations knew, did ever preach
Eternal love as mirror of the mind.
'Valid' replies the mind, - who would be kind -
And yet no power could give her flower speech
Inciting all within to sail, not beach
Life's luck in truck of quite another kind.
Let thus the heart art's acrobatics flee
And Nothing Then could sunder me from thee.

XLVII

Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took,
And each doth good turns now unto the other:
When that mine eye is famish’d for a look,
Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother,
With my love’ s picture then my eye doth feast,
And to the painted banquet bids my heart;
Another time mine eye is my heart’s guest,
And in his thoughts of love doth share a part:
So, either by thy picture or my love,
Thyself away art present still with me;
For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move,
And I am still with them and they with thee;
Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight
Awakes my heart to heart’s and eye’s delight.

Sonnet XLVII

Struggles cease as heart and eye ally

Struggles cease as heart and eye ally
And each to each good turns does sans delay: -
Now do they twine as heart, with inner eye
Divine reflection notes of every trait.
Refreshed is heart with eyeing every part,
If eye's fulfilled, then heart's a welcome guest,
Neither rush, each waits the other's start,
Eyes twinned with heart in love, both unrepressed.
Valued by both, Thy portrait's in my mind,
And by both loved, thy image all adore!
It would, if otherwise, betray, - both find
Love gives not takes, - makes music, wakes not s(c) ore.
Let thus both live, thy echo in their sight,
And Never Turn to fakes for false delight.

XLVIII

How careful was I when I took my way;
Each trifle under truest bars to thrust,
That to my use it might unusèd stay
From hands of falsehood, in true wards of trust!
But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,
Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief,
Thou, best of dearest and mine only care,
Art left the prey of every vulgar thief.
Thee have I not locked up in any chest,
Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art,
Within the gentle closure of my breast,
From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part;
And even hence thou wilt be stol'n I fear,
For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.

Sonnet XLVIII

Streams start as springs, soon into rivers stream,

Streams start as springs, soon into rivers stream,
Anon they spew into the ocean blue.
Nations start as one man's tiny dream,
Derived from reasons reason never knew.
Rare is thy beauty, - form, face, open mind, -
If Truth, that's universal, dares to speak:
Nor shall fair fade, leave not a wrack behind, -
E'er would time trav'llers scour Earth such to seek!
Vanity reflects that Man is vain,
As is his race, excepting only one, -
In thee is Eve incarnate once again,
Leaving new Eden's portals' locks undone.
Life flows from thee, for Mankind knows its glows
Are Not To be should thee thy seed not sow.

XLIX

Against that time, if ever that time come,
When I shall see thee frown on my defects,
When as thy love hath cast his utmost sum,
Call'd to that audit by advis'd respects;
Against that time when thou shalt strangely pass,
And scarcely greet me with that sun, thine eye,
When love, converted from the thing it was,
Shall reasons find of settled gravity;
Against that time do I ensconce me here
Within the knowledge of mine own desert,
And this my hand against myself uprear,
To guard the lawful reasons on thy part:
To leave poor me thou hast the strength of laws,
Since why to love I can allege no cause.

Sonnet XLIX

Spare self from sorrow, let not my defects

Spare self from sorrow, let not my defects
Afflict you with unhappiness or woe,
Note not knot sore as your soft eye inspects
Delicately how I've failed to grow.
Remember, her who learns, himself perfects!
If there should come a time when you'd not know
Nor care you knew me once, when eye deflects
Eye from my orbit, blaming Cupid's bow,
View not the sum of what here interjects
A sonnet sequence as of worth! Its flow
Is hesitant, it frequently erects.
Like Spanish castles, dreams that turn to dough.
Leave me! - wing high towards a brighter sphere,
And Ne'er Take heed of one light trickle-tear!

L

How heavy do I journey on the way,
When what I seek, my weary travel’s end,
Doth teach that ease and that repose to stay,
« Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend! »
The beast that bears me, tired with my woe,
Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me,
As if by some instinct the wretch did know
His rider loved not speed, being made from thee:
The bloody spur cannot provoke him on
That sometimes anger thrusts into his side,
Which heavily he answers with a groan
More sharp to me than spurring to his side;
For that same groan doth put this in my mind:
My grief lies onward, and my joy behind.

Sonnet L

Sadly I journey onward into night

Sadly I journey onward into night,
Aware that Time no longer is my friend!
Neglecting not that distance from dead-end
Daily declines, - the signs make sorry sight.
Ride on, O beast of burden, - body blight
Is far too much to bear alone! We wend
Not knowing, caring not, what round the bend
Existence offers, - far from you, black drowns white.
Vain Love's pain when rejection dims Love's light,
Adds separation, - seemingly sans end.
I care not if I climb or I descend,
Lacking your smile, all's trial, - and then 'goodnight! '
Left to my thoughts I'm caught within Time's web,
Alone, Night-Trapped, until Time's tide shall ebb.

LI

Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
Of my dull bearer when from thee I speed:
From where thou art why should I haste me thence!
Till I return, of posting is no need.
O! what excuse will my poor beast then find,
When swift extremity can seem but slow ?
Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind,
In wingèd speed no motion shall I know:
Then can no horse with my desire keep pace,
Therefore desire of perfect'st love being made,
Shall neigh - no dull flesh - in his fiery race;
But love, for love, thus shall excuse my jade, -
'Since from thee going he went wilful-slow
Towards thee I'll run and give him leave to go.'

Sonnet LI

Shall then my love forgive my constant smiles?

Shall then my love forgive my constant smiles?
As each succeeds, each seeds another score,
Not one's begun but see, ten thousand more
Defend Love's tides from Time's tempestuous wiles.
Rise and fall, - time beats Time to her breast,
It is a willing victim's will to act
Not with a scythe but with a sigh, - the rest
Ecstatic is fulfilment, not time-wracked.
Valiant the white winged horse whose force can find
A way whereby high hopes can be upheld, -
If constant calling lets us leave behind
Life's sorrows, sonnets shan't be better spelled!
Love's knocks take toll, but if the truth be told;
All Now To one knock bow, which warm turns cold.

LII

So am I as the rich, whose blessèd key
Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure,
The which he will not every hour survey,
For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.
Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare,
Since, seldom coming, in the long year set,
Like stones of worth they thinly placed are,
Or captain jewels in the carnet.
So is the time that keeps you as my chest,
Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide,
To make some special instant special blest,
By new unfolding of his imprisoned pride.
Blessed are you, whose worthiness gives scope
Being had, to triumph; being lacked to hope.

Sonnet LII

So am I as the wealthy man whose key

So am I as the wealthy man whose key
Affords him entry to his treasure store: -
Now, far from all too frequent visits, he
Defers to patience, - pleasure measures more.
Rare are the feasts to which I'm not convoked,
It seems, though as if waiting weight reposed,
Nor is impatient wit one whit revoked, -
Enhanced 'tis, rather, by delays imposed.
Vain anguish is, and anger most misplaced,
As sweet anticipation of her smile
Irritation's calms, pain is replaced
Like rainbow at storm's end, joy after trial.
Life blesses her whose heart, when shared, brings bliss, -
And No Theme else I'd sing where I could kiss.
Coin of your realm is doubly blessed and minted -
HEld back to hope, enjoyed in triumph printed.
LIII

What is your substance, whereof are you made,
That millions of strange shadows on you tend?
Since every one hath, every one, one shade,
And you, but one, can every shadow lend.
Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit
Is poorly imitated after you;
On Helen's cheek all art of beauty set,
And you in Grecian tires are painted new:
Speak of the spring and foison of the year,
The one doth shadow of your beauty show,
The other as your bounty does appear;
And you in every blessèd shape we know.
In all external grace you have some part,
But you like none, none you, for constant heart.

Sonnet LIII

She hungry makes where most she satisfies

She hungry makes where most she satisfies,
As if upon itself starvation fed.
Nectar from the Gods her love supplies,
Drys up all tears, - fires flare from heart to head.
Royal jelly's fed the Queen of bees, -
If Queen, then Helen could not please my eyes,
Nefertiti and Venus parodies, -
Each echoes Beauty's phantom shadow sighs.
Vain is Spring's title, stale before Her youth,
All talk of Summer fades before Her fire,
If Autumn's plenitude, 'tis plain uncouth!
Late Winter's cold, - She's pregnant with desire!
Lady, others boast external art,
Another Never claimed such constant heart.

LIV

O! how much more doth beauty beauteous seem
By that sweet ornament which truth doth give.
The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem
For that sweet odour which doth in it live.
The canker-blossoms have full as deep a dye
As the perfumed tincture of the roses.
Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly
When summer's breath their maskèd buds discloses:
But, for their virtue only is their show,
They live unwoo'd, and unrespected fade;
Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so;
Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made:
And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,
When that shall fade, my verse distils your truth.

Sonnet LIV

Sweet beauty shines as brighter ornament

Sweet beauty shines as brighter ornament
Adorned by truth, blessed with a constant heart,
No fairer sound is from an instrument
Derived than that which sets thy voice apart.
Roses' blooms assume a perfumed cloak
Inviting thus the sense of smell and eye, -
Nonetheless they fade! From acorn oak
Engendered is, grows strong, slows, soon to die!
Vain is all outward show of pomp and pow'r,
As in an hour or two, Pride falters, falls,
In one alone can Beauty's beauty flower,
Less is all others' bloom, their scent soon palls.
Learn then, O world, Truth's Beauty, Beauty Truth,
According Naught To any but Thy youth.


LV

Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rime;
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone, besmeared with sluttish time.
When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
And broils root out the work of masonry,
Nor Mars his sword nor war’s quick fire shall burn
The living record of your memory.
‘Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom.
So, till the judgement that yourself arise,
You live in this, and dwell in lover’s eyes.

Sonnet LV

Sometimes I dream you'll leave the door ajar

Sometimes I dream you'll leave the door ajar
Allowing entrance to this princely rhyme,
No marble monument could stand the test of time,
Defender of a faith that Love does star.
Ra(n) ging my affection, deep and far
Its roots extend, sans end of any kind.
Nor should there be one, for posterity
Extends beyond restrictions which do jar !
Vanquished is Death, for you he cannot mar,
And I, through knowing you, to life do bind
In trust myself as Muse to you assigned,
Limpet-like, who thus Time's lines would bar.
Love shines through you as long as man draws breath,
ANThem to life, your spell dispels dread Death.


LVI

Sweet love renew thy force; be it not said
Thy edge should blunter be than appetite,
Which but today by feeding is allay'd,
To-morrow sharpened in his former might:
So, love be thou; although to-day thou fill
Thy hungry eyes, even till they wink with fullness,
To-morrow see again, and do not kill
The spirit of love with a perpetual dullness.
Let this sad interim like the ocean be
Which parts the shore, where two contracted new
Come daily to the banks, that, when they see
Return of love, more blest may be the view;
Or, call it winter, which, being full of care,
Makes summer's welcome thrice more wished, more rare.

Sonnet LVI

So is it error where I would draw near

So is it error where I would draw near,
And like a bee which whets its appetite
Nectar suck from thee, to set alight
Day after day love's flame more brave, more dear?
Radiation warms the heart, sends cheer,
In daily dose increasing love's delight,
Ne'er cloys, nor stales, nor do its dreams turn trite.
Ever constant, Love shines crystal clear.
Vacant was my soul-song, dull and drear, -
All changed with our encounter! Second sight
Is granted though one smile stays out of sight.
Love's lightning flew a kite Love's winds now steer.
Life enforces differences enough, -
Action Now Take, before Time calls our bluff!


LVII

Being your slave, what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend,
Nor services to do, till you require.
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour
When you have bid your servant once adieu;
Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought,
Save, where you are how happy you make those.
So true a fool is love that in your will,
Though you do anything, he thinks no ill.

Sonnet LVII

Servant to your every wish, desire,

Servant to your every wish, desire,
Am I who each would with affection tend,
Nor count time lost, nor yet the costs enquire,
Doing aught - each thought to you does wend.
Reminded of your absence every hour,
I'll not complain, but gain through sorrow joy,
Nor envy those who glory in your flower
Entranced, but thank the stars for their employ.
Vain are regrets, or jealousy or spite, -
All happiness dependent is on you,
If others make you happy, knave or knight,
Love suffers gladly all that love would do.
Love is Love's fool, schools will to who's adored,
Asks Not To change its state, seeks no reward.

LVIII

That god forbid that made me first your slave,
I should in thought control your times of pleasure,
Or at your hand the account of hours to crave,
Being your vassal, bound to stay your leisure?
O! let me suffer, being at your beck,
The imprisoned absence of your liberty;
And patience, tame to sufferance, bide each cheek,
Without accusing you of injury.
Be where you list, your charter is so strong
That you yourself may privilege your time
To what you will; to you it does belong
Yourself to pardon, of self-doing crime.
I am to wait, though waiting so be hell,
Not blame your pleasure, be it ill or well.

Sonnet LVIII

So God forbid the day that sees me thine

So God forbid the day that sees me thine
Admit that I should try to speak thy mind,
Nor click through thy agenda, undermine,
Demanding explanations, fault to find.
Rather leave me as separation's slave
In due respect of thy autonomy,
Ne'er chafe at rein, nor rave, thy reign I crave, -
Enchanted! - is dependence injury?
Valiant I who to thy will do belong,
And thine the privilege of most decision,
It is a rule divine, both fine and strong, -
Loyalty's owed Love that shows true vision.
Loyal in my love to royal thee,
Aspiring Not To slave of other's be.

LIX

If there be nothing new, but what there is
Hath been before, how are our brains beguiled
Which, labouring for invention, bear amiss
The second burthen of a former child.
O! that record could with a backward look,
Even of five hundred courses of the sun,
Show me your image in some antique book,
Since mind in at first in character was done.
That I might see what the old world could say
To this composed wonder of your frame;
Whe'r we are mended, or whe'r better they,
Or whether revolution be the same.
O! sure I am, the wits of former days
To subjects worse have given admiring praise.

Sonnet LIX

Sundry inventions of technology

Sundry inventions of technology
Are rediscovered echoes of the past,
'Nothing new beneath the sun', say we,
Does start but part remines Time's dregs recast.
Riding backwards thrice ten thousand years, -
If that becomes a possibility -
None would be found who could be classed thy peers,
Equal in face, form, and fair mind with thee.
Vainly would Helen's, Cleopatra's court
Attempt to serve their ends, with thee compare, -
Intense thy praise spontaneous, unsought,
Landslide thy plurality, vote rare.
Look back, look forward, what is Time to thee? -
As None Thy rival there could ever be!

LX

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end;
Each changing place with that which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crowned,
Crooked eclipses ’gainst his glory fight,
And Time that grave doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth
And delves the parallels in beauty’s brow,
Feeds on the rarities of nature’s truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow:
And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand,
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

Sonnet LX

So do our minutes hasten to their end

So do our minutes hasten to their end,
As surging waves swim to the pebbled shore,
None out of sequence, all do all befriend,
Do ride the tide, seek those that flowed before.
Rising star, once centre of attraction,
Is soon mature, once ripe begins to rot, -
Nor can it fight against its strength's subtraction,
Each gift Time swift redeems, each I does dot.
Vain prove's youth's creams when Time with Truth plays games
And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,
It nothing spares, pares all, upsets false (cl) aims,
Lets nothing stand, - no tithe its scythe won't mow.
Long still thy worth Time's inroads will withstand,
And None Thy birth forget, despite his hand.

LXI

Is it thy will thy image should keep open
My heavy eyelids to the weary night?
Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken
While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?
Is it thy spirit that thou send'st from thee
So far from home into my deeds to pry,
To find out shame and idle hours in me,
The scope and tenor of thy jealousy ?
O, no! thy love, though much, is not so great:
It is my love that keeps mine eye awake;
Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,
To play the watchman ever for thy sake.
For thee watch I whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,
From me far off, with others all too near.

Sonnet LXI

Slumbers at thy pressing wish are broken

Slumbers at thy pressing wish are broken
As eyelids open in the weary night, -
Night whose fond dreams teem with thy echo's token -
Denying shadows shadows' place by right.
Roving is thy spirit, sent from thee
Into my moments, deep therein to pry,
Needling shortcomings inherent in me, -
Errors, regrets, temptations tempers try.
Vast though thy love may be, mine for thy sake
Awake does keep me, doth all rest defeat,
It is my fire that feeds me to the stake,
Leaps out with tempting tongue and pulsing beat.
Love, I do wait for thee, who'd sate elsewhere,
All Night Though thy light glows in others' care.

LXII

Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye
And all my soul and all my every part;
And for this sin there is no remedy,
It is so grounded inward in my heart.
Methinks no face as gracious is as mine,
No shape so true, no truth of such account;
And for myself mine own worth do define
As I all other in all worths surmount.
But when my glass shows me my worth indeed,
Beated and chopped with tanned antiquity,
Mine own self-love quite contrary I read:
Self so self-loving were iniquity.
'Tis thee, - myself, - that for myself I praise,
Painting my age with beauty of thy days.

Sonnet LXII

Sin of self-love was mine until we met

Sin of self-love was mine until we met,
And all my soul, my each and every part,
Navel worshipped, 'self' could not forget,
Denying feelings from the inner heart.
Responding to shared magic I arise
In wonderment, and slough the skin of pride,
No worth now see(k) in any other eyes,
Enough is that which in you does abide.
Vanity my mirror did reflect, -
And now I learn love's taste, spurn waste, to share
In light and laughter, ease of heart, - reject
Luckless habits leading to despair.
Latent was the well-spring of my soul,
And Now Twinned stars may merge to make one whole!

LXIII

Against my love shall be, as I am now,
With Time's injurious hand crushed and o'erworn;
When hours have drained his blood and fill'd his brow
With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn
Hath travelled on to age's steepy night;
And all those beauties whereof now he's king
Are vanishing, or vanished out of sight,
Stealing away the treasure of his spring;
For such a time do I now fortify
Against confounding age's cruel knife,
That he shall never cut from memory
My sweet love's beauty, though my lover's life:
His beauty shall in these black lines be seen,
And they shall live, and he in them still green.

Sonnet LXIII

Sunset sends shadows, yet an inner light

Sunset sends shadows, yet an inner light
Announces that an aura glows behind.
None can ignore its beacon-beckon! Blind
Did I once wander, - wonderment, delight
Reveals one smile unique, affords insight
Intense, and omnipresent, joy I find,
Name all as rose, - so sweet Life seems, so kind.
Encaged the mind was which now dares invite
Virtue to espouse a future bright,
Alliance to complete but not to bind,
In harmony replete, trust kept, unsigned.
Love flourishes, transcending Time's grim spite.
Lanterns external shine out from your soul,
Allowing None To doubt the inner whole.

LXIV

When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defaced
The rich-proud cost of outworn buried age;
When sometime lofty towers I see down-razed,
And brass eternal slave to mortal rage;
When I have seen the hungry ocean gain
Advantage on the kingdom of the shore,
And the firm soil win of the watery main,
Increasing store with loss, and loss with store;
When I have seen such interchange of state,
Or state itself confounded to decay;
Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate -
That Time will come and take my love away.
This thought is as a death, which cannot choose
But weep to have that which it fears to lose.

Sonnet LXIV

Steamroller strange is Time, so prompt to wreak

Steamroller strange is Time, so prompt to wreak
A vengeance on all empires strong and wide,
No notice taking of all earthly pride,
Down-razing towers, airing dungeon keep.
Rich lands too often hands reserve for clique, -
Increasing store which for the poor's denied -
Nature's revenge is loss stored up to chide
Ephemerality, whose future's bleak.
Vast as Man's ego seems, the seams are weak:
As ocean from the shoreline steals each tide
Inch after inch, - Time leaves us cut and dried
Luckless souls who know not where to seek!
Life is a paradox, Man fears to loose
A Nothing That's (s) willed from his right to choose.

LXV

Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
But sad mortality o'ersways their power,
How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
O! how shall summer's honey breath hold out
Against the wrackful siege of battering days,
When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?
O fearful meditation! where, alack,
Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid?
Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?
Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
O! none, unless this miracle have might,
That in black ink my love may still shine bright.

Sonnet LXV

Some thoughts, like playful kittens, trip ahead,

Some thoughts, like playful kittens, trip ahead,
And trip up Fate, - which freedom hates to leave.
Nature's instincts, loving, Love believe;
Denying both Time's horsemen and Death's dread.
Remember this when silver, when your head
Is hoar with age against which no reprieve,
No solace can be found, should you deceive
Emotions which Time's motions would stop dead!
Veneers most sneer at, though some fools are fed
A diet of mixed metaphors, do grieve
Into their graves before they grace receive,
Like zombies (s) hell-bound ere their hour is sped.
Let thus this lesson light Man's destined date,
And Name The day, no longer hesitate..

LXVI

Tired with all these, for restful death I cry
As to behold desèrt a beggar born,
And needy nothing trimmed in jollity,
And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
And gilded honour shamefully misplaced,
And maiden virtue rudely strumpet,
And right perfection wrongfully disgraced,
And strength by limping sway disabled,
And art made tongue-tied by authority,
And folly - doctor-like - controlling skill,
And simple truth miscalled simplicity,
And captive good attending captain ill:
Tired with all these, from these would I be gone,
Save that to die, I leave my love alone.

Sonnet LXVI

Separation leaves my senses weak

Separation leaves my senses weak,
As if to birth position I returned -
No cheek to blush, no mirth, no tongue to speak;
Despair is writ like critic's praise when earned -
Rewarded by a flimsy paper God.
I long for call igniting song's strong fires,
Now do I wait, nor find this waiting odd,
Existence starts and ends with your desires!
Various solutions might I sound,
And yet none tempts, for your electric touch
Is such my mind's pre-empted, I spin round
Love's whirlpool in an all-embracing clutch!
Lend me a hand, together we shall see
As Night Transformed by day, a new world free.

LXVII

Ah! wherefore with infection should he live,
And with his presence grace impiety,
That sin by him advantage should achieve,
And lace himself with his society?
Why should false painting imitate his cheek,
And steel dead seeing of his living hue?
Why should poor beauty indirectly seek
Roses of shadow, since his rose is true?
Why should he live, now Nature bankrupt is,
Beggared of blood to blush through lively veins?
For she hath no exchequer now but his,
And, proud of many, lives upon his gains.
O! him she stores, to show that wealth she had
In days long since, before these last so bad.

Sonnet LXVII

Spontaneous these feelers here I send

Spontaneous these feelers here I send,
A message that the postman soon shall bring,
Nurturing the hope we'll bridges mend,
Dance in tandem, you as Queen, I King!
Rendering to Beauty what by right
Is hers I write, confessing everything, -
No hesitations - mesh with fresh delight
Emphasising those duets we'll sing.
Vacillation, barriers diverse,
Arguments invalid, specious, sling!
Inhibitions banish! Let's rehearse
Lovingly exchange of golden ring.
Listen to your heart, true feelings vent,
Approaching New Tomorrows, confident.

LXVIII

Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn,
When beauty liv'd and died as flowers do now,
Before these bastard signs of fair were born,
Or durst inhabit on a living brow;
Before the golden tresses of the dead,
The right of sepulchres, were shorn away,
To live a second life on second head;
Ere beauty's dead fleece made another gay:
In him those holy antique hours are seen,
Without all ornament, itself and true,
Making no summer of another's green,
Robbing no old to dress his beauty new;
And him as for a map doth Nature store,
To show false Art what beauty was of yore.

Sonnet LXVIII

Should there be nothing new beneath the sun

Should there be nothing new beneath the sun,
And each sensation mirror-imaged time,
Not fact, but fancy of some soul sublime
Drawn from the maws of cause, effect, which run
Right through the system swiftly, scarce begun
In flash succession till, encased in rime,
No more from store recalled, - this pantomime
Expression of our dreams is like the sun:
Valiant now, encircled now, undone! -
A vicious circle, faceless clock, whose chime
Is out of tune and time, whose double climb
Leads round repeat impressions one by one.
Lighthouse lantern is your smile, whose blaze
Approximates Nirvana, Threads my days.

LXIX

Those parts of thee that the world's eye doth view
Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend;
All tongues - the voice of souls - give thee that due,
Uttering bare truth, even so as foes commend.
Thy outward thus with outward praise is crowned;
But those same tongues, that give thee so thine own,
In other accents do this praise confound
By seeing farther than the eye hath shown.
They look into the beauty of thy mind,
And that, in guess, they measure by thy deeds,
Then - churls, - their thoughts, although their eyes were kind,
To thy fair flower add the rank smell of weeds:
But why thy odour matcheth not thy show,
The soil is this, that thou dost common grow.

Sonnet LXIX

Strong is my faith, and each wraith from the past

Strong is my faith, and each wraith from the past
At last finds rest, repose from echoes old.
New virtue now rings true, and love's repast
Draws light to life if all the truth be told.
Restive in youth, I thought all things I knew,
I was proved wrong, long suffered for my trust,
Nor knew to take a diff'rent point of view!
Experiencing your sunshine now I must
Validate the story of my life!
A strange coincidence arranged our fate,
Inherent similarities, not strife,
Led to true adoration, won't abate!
Language lacks the wherewithal to list
All Nature's Talents, - none the Muses missed.

LXX

That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect,
For slander's mark was ever yet the fair;
The ornament of beauty is suspect,
A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air.
So thou be good, slander doth but approve
Thy worth the greater, being woo'd of time;
For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love,
And thou present'st a pure unstainèd prime.
Thou has passed by the ambush of your days
Either not assailed, or victor being charged;
Yet this thy praise cannot be so thy praise,
To tie up envy evermore enlarged:
If some suspect of ill masked not thy show,
Then thou alone kingdoms of hearts should owe.

Sonnet LXX

Slander's spite to quality's attracted

Slander's spite to quality's attracted
And jealousy white turns to black and blame,
News travels fast, as versions - none the same -
Divide from fact dark fancies that, extracted,
Remind the gossip all he's ever lacked.
If one should blossom while harsh winter's frost
Nips all other buds, whose bloom is lost,
Envy whines, while virtue is attacked,
Verity's transformed by vice, truth's wracked.
As Time thy claim to fame continues to
Instate, enthrone, exalt, and, worship too,
Leaving envy's bubble burst, eye blacked.
Live as my Muse, refuse false envy's spite,
Alone Now, Thou shalt share intense delight.


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Poems About Sad

  1. 1. Sandrine Sonnet Cycle 2005 Copy I - Lxx , Jonathan ROBIN
  2. 2. The Song Of An Old Man , RIC S. BASTASA
  3. 3. Lament For Leaf Loss , C Richard Miles
  4. 4. Amongst Wealth And Fame , Francis Duggan
  5. 5. Sad And Empty , gershon hepner
  6. 6. When I Last Spoke To Johnny , Francis Duggan
  7. 7. Good Bye Sadness , Aldo Kraas
  8. 8. Peace Has Packed On A Fast Track And Gone , Lawrence S. Pertillar
  9. 9. Once Sad, Now No More , Luis Estable
  10. 10. Mahabharata, Book Xi - Oblation To Karna , Veda Vyasa
  11. 11. Sad , Nassy Fesharaki
  12. 12. The Long Marsh , Emmanuel George Cefai
  13. 13. Under The Pines , Frederick George Scott
  14. 14. Sad To See Him Go , Jennifer Rondeau
  15. 15. How Leaden-Eyed The Sky To-Day , Emmanuel George Cefai
  16. 16. Sad Faced Dan , Francis Duggan
  17. 17. Para Sa Akong Giibogan Nga Doktora , RIC S. BASTASA
  18. 18. On The Cork Hurlers Strike , Francis Duggan
  19. 19. Life Is Sad , Shalom Freedman
  20. 20. Your Sadness Draws A Sad Picture , MOHAMMAD SKATI
  21. 21. The Last Moments Of A Tyrant , MOHAMMAD SKATI
  22. 22. To Laugh Happily Is To Be Or Not To Be , MOHAMMAD SKATI
  23. 23. Poetry And Poems , MOHAMMAD SKATI
  24. 24. Looking At The Many People , Lawrence S. Pertillar
  25. 25. With The Result That Shakespeare Excessi.. , starseven0 starseven0
  26. 26. Of Ancient Mastodon, Sleepy Bee & Young .. , Warren Falcon
  27. 27. To Raneem , MOHAMMAD SKATI
  28. 28. Sad Susie , Mark Heathcote
  29. 29. My Little Kitten Mushmish Passed Away , MOHAMMAD SKATI
  30. 30. Sandy Passed Away Today , MOHAMMAD SKATI
  31. 31. One Line #3 , otteri selvakumar
  32. 32. It Tires Me , MOHAMMAD SKATI
  33. 33. Sahar's Sadness , MOHAMMAD SKATI
  34. 34. Garfield Place , David McLansky
  35. 35. In Remembrance , Dr John Celes
  36. 36. Sandrine Sonnet Cycle 2005 Copy Lxxi - Cl , Jonathan ROBIN
  37. 37. I Do Not Understand , Francis Duggan
  38. 38. Why Should I Be Sad? , Aldo Kraas
  39. 39. Appearing Tpo Be Sad , gershon hepner
  40. 40. The Best Of Medicine , Francis Duggan
  41. 41. Consolation Cannot Be The Prize , gershon hepner
  42. 42. The Lifer , Charles Hice
  43. 43. So Sad , Rohit Sapra
  44. 44. I Loved Her In Truth, But She Denied Tha.. , MOHAMMAD SKATI
  45. 45. Different Teeth To Laugh , MOHAMMAD SKATI
  46. 46. To Dode The Pretty Princess , MOHAMMAD SKATI
  47. 47. -how Can I Sleep Honey & I Left You Lone.. , Ali Sabry
  48. 48. Poems Of Sadness , MOHAMMAD SKATI
  49. 49. He Played , Emmanuel George Cefai
  50. 50. Tree Love , otteri selvakumar
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