A SONNET IN SPRING.

O CHAINLESS Love, the frost is in my brain,

Whose swift desires and swift intelligence

Are dull and numb to-day; because the sense

Only responds to the sharp key of pain.

O free fair Love, as welcome as the rain

On thirsty fallows, come, and let us hence

Far where the veil of Summer lies immense,

A haze of heat on ocean’s purple plain.

O wingless Love, let us away together

Where the sure surf rings round the beaten strand;

Where the sky stands, a dome of flawless weather,

And the stars join in one triumphal band,

Because we broke the inexorable tether

That bound our passion with an iron hand.

 

The Dreaming Death | Index | De Profundis