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I saw thee weep
I.
I saw thee weep-the big bright tear Came o'er that eye of blue; And then methought it did appear A violet dropping dew; I saw thee smile-the sapphire's blaze Beside thee ceased to shine; It could not match the living rays That fill'd that glance of thine.
II.
As clouds from yonder sun receive A deep and mellow dye, Which scarce the shade of coming eve Can banish from the sky, Those smiles unto the moodiest mind Their own pure joy impart; Their sunshine leaves a glow behind That lightens o'er the heart.
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Sin of self-love possesseth al mine eye (Sonnet 62)
Sin of self-love possesseth al 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 so gracious is as mine, No shape so true, no truth of such account; And for myself mine own worth surmount. But when my glass shows me myself 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.
spedisci salva scarica sposta elimina brutta non male bella commenta
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Against that time, if ever that time come (Sonnet 49)
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, Called to that audit by advised rspects: 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 reasonsfind of settled gravity: Against that time o I ensconce me here Within the knowledge of mine own desert, And this my hand against myse lf 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
spedisci salva scarica sposta elimina brutta non male bella commenta
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Theodore il poeta
As a boy, Theodore, you sat for long hours On the shore of the turbid Spoon With deep-set eye staring at the door of the crawfish’s burrow, Waiting for him to appear, pushing ahead, First his waving antennae, like straws of hay, And soon his body, colored like soap-stone, Gemmed with eyes of jet. And you wondered in a trance of thought What he knew, what be desired, and why he lived at all But later your vision watched for men and women Hiding in burrows of fate amid great cities, Looking for the souls of them to come out, So that you could see How they lived, and for what, And why they kept crawling so busily Along the sandy way where water fails As the summer wanes.
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