O sad-eyed, fierce, distempered and alone —
I have been cast away to sadly wait
And sigh these outcast hours of length unknown
At this safe distance with thee in this state.
But please, my dear lady, do not grieve long
For thy pains are not in thyself contained
As thy heart is my heart, thy breath my song,
Thy woe is mine by no false colour feigned,
Thy smallest heartsore is my agony,
Thy brief contentment is my elation,
Thy distress is torture and death for me,
And thy smile is my annihilation.
Do not be long, thy grief shall never be
Nor was before, but it is shared by me.
This entry was posted in Sonnets.

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