(sonnet # CCXLVI)
How now, Love? Wherefore doth thy romance spare
Me but in fancy's play? I see thee high
And low, in nature's fairest days and by
Thy moonlit scene's delights; ecstatic share
The glow of verdant moments when the air
Is laced with melodies, when clearest sky
An open face inviting seems. Yet nigh
Me e'er, well-known, thou dost deny my prayer.
My silhouettes of thy dear charms, as leaves
Perhaps that gaily dance to zephyrs' sway,
But mock my longings in their thrill that cleaves
Persistent to my dreams; the theme and lay
I sing in vain to thee, sometimes bereaves
Me of my joy, deceives, and turns life grey.
08Oct11