Sonnets to Delia - Sonnet 31

Raysing my hopes on hills of high desire,
Thinking to scale the heaven of her hart,
My slender meanes presum'd too high a part;
Her thunder of disdaine forst me retyre,
And threw mee downe to paine in all this fire,
Where, loe, I languish in so heavie smart,
Because th'attempt was farre above my arte:
Her pride brook'd not poore soules shold come so nie her
Yet I protest my high aspyring will
Was not to dispossesse her of her right:
Her soveraignty should have remained still,
I onely sought the blisse to have her sight
Her sight, contented thus to see me spill,
Fram'd my desires fit for her eyes to kill.
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.