Sonnet XXXIII I Wake
I wake
delusive phantoms hence, away
Tempt not the weakness of a lover's breast;
The softest breeze can shake the halcyon's nest,
I wake
delusive phantoms hence, away
Tempt not the weakness of a lover's breast;
The softest breeze can shake the halcyon's nest,
Reign in my thoughts, fair hand, sweet eye, rare voice:
Possess me whole, my heart's triumvirate;
Yet heavy heart to make so hard a choice,
Of such as spoil thy poor afflicted stated
All my thoughts always speak to me of love,
Yet have between themselves such
That while one bids me bow with mind and sense,
A second saith, "Go to: look thou above";
Of thee, kind boy,
I ask no red and white,
To make up my delight;
No odd becoming graces,
Time's sea hath been five years at its slow ebb,
Long hours have to and fro let creep the sand,
Since I was tangled in thy beauty's web,
And snared by the ungloving of thine hand
When vain desire at last and vain
Go hand in hand to death, and all is vain,
What shall assuage the unforgotten
And teach the unforgetful to forget
EN of the silver bow
--by thy pale beam,
Alone and pensive,
I delight to stray,
By what word's power, the key of paths untrod,
Shall I the difficult deeps of Love explore,
Till parted waves of Song yield up the
Even as that sea which Israel crossed dryshod
I saw our golden years on a black gale,our time of love spilt in the furious dust
"O we are winter-caught, and we must fail,"said the dark dream, "and time is overcast
"-And woke into the night; but you were there,and...
Alas, have I not pain enough, my friend,
Upon whose breast a fiercer gripe doth tire,
Than did on him who first stole down the fire,
While Love on me doth all his quiver spend,
With what sharp checks I in myself am shent,
When into Reason's audit I do go:
And by just counts myself a bankrupt know Of all the goods, which heav'n to me hath lent:
Unable quite to pay even Nature's rent,
Lo, here the impost of a faith unfeigning That love hath paid, and her disdain extorted,
Behold the message of my just complaining That shows the world how much my grief imported
These tributary plaints fraught with desire,
I send t...