Two Sonnets
I
Bbecause she listened to the quiring spheres
We thought she did not hear our homely strings;
Stars diademed her hair in misty rings,
Too late we understood those stars were tears.
Bbecause she listened to the quiring spheres
We thought she did not hear our homely strings;
Stars diademed her hair in misty rings,
Too late we understood those stars were tears.
Without she was a temple pure as snow,
Within were piteous flames of sacrifice;
And underneath the dazzling mask of ice
A heart of swiftest fire was dying slow.
Within were piteous flames of sacrifice;
And underneath the dazzling mask of ice
A heart of swiftest fire was dying slow.
She in herself, as lonely lilies fold
Stiff silver petals over secret gold,
Shielded her passion, and remained afar
From pity:—Cast red roses on the pyre!
She that was snow shall rise to Heaven as fire
In the still glory of the morning star.
Stiff silver petals over secret gold,
Shielded her passion, and remained afar
From pity:—Cast red roses on the pyre!
She that was snow shall rise to Heaven as fire
In the still glory of the morning star.
You
