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.
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