Sunday, November 24, 2013

Sonnet XXXIII (33)

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 splendor on my brow; 
But out! alack! he was but one hour mine, 
The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now. 
Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth; 
Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth. 

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