Sonnet 207

A ray of light that veils the woeful night
Is how I see this love I newly found.
A running stream that filled my hollow bight,
And beauty oh! Too subtle, too profound.
Ah! Lips on which dost vibrant roses bloom,
And eyes that pierce through heaven’s scorching stare,
And smile that fends off tones of dreadful gloom,
With what, with what this love should I compare?
To mother’s care, to parting lover’s kiss,
To warmness in a snowy winter day,
To dying men and all their deathbed wish,
To trees and breeze, their dance of jocund way,
Very existence of her, I adore,
Love her I do, she loves me even more.

Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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