Sonnet
Dark-eyed one! when I first beheld thy face,
My soul was gladdened. Many years I'd sought
A living semblance to the bright Ideal
Imagination drew. It was not all unreal,
That pleasing dream, nor was it all a vision;
For looking on thee now, my mind can trace
A faultless likeness 'tween that form and thee.
In my prophetic dreamings I had caught
The true impression. Angelo or Titian
Could not have wrought a happier imagery;
And less enduring — Theirs will end with Time;
But mine — what human skill! what art sublime!
Will live forever! theirs will cease to be,
While mine, in thee, will live to all eternity.
My soul was gladdened. Many years I'd sought
A living semblance to the bright Ideal
Imagination drew. It was not all unreal,
That pleasing dream, nor was it all a vision;
For looking on thee now, my mind can trace
A faultless likeness 'tween that form and thee.
In my prophetic dreamings I had caught
The true impression. Angelo or Titian
Could not have wrought a happier imagery;
And less enduring — Theirs will end with Time;
But mine — what human skill! what art sublime!
Will live forever! theirs will cease to be,
While mine, in thee, will live to all eternity.
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