William Shakespeare
1564-1616
Sonnet XXXIII
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
splendour 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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