Caroling Dusk/Sonnet—1

by Gwendolyn B. Bennett

For works with similar titles, see Sonnet.

SONNET

1

He came in silvern armour, trimmed with black—A lover come from legends long ago— With silver spurs and silken plumes a-blow,And flashing sword caught fast and buckled backIn a carven sheath of Tamarack.He came with footsteps beautifully slow,And spoke in voice meticulously low.He came and Romance followed in his track. . . .

I did not ask his name—I thought him Love;I did not care to see his hidden face.All life seemed born in my intaken breath;All thought seemed flown like some forgotten dove.He bent to kiss and raised his visor’s lace . . .All eager-lipped I kissed the mouth of Death.