The Delian horses plunge into the sky
And bring the sleeping world alive; a feat
Which (essential it may be, conceded)
Can never with your precious smile compete.
What fear have I for swiftly rising tides,
A rage where every sailor shakes in fright,
When deprivation of your fickle favour
Hears me weeping at your door each night?
My life depends, my Love, on you believing
The truth: I wake each day to hear your laugh.
I cannot bear the prospect of you leaving;
I beg you, Love, to hear my plaintive sigh:
That only for your sweet eyes’ grace I live
That only by your cold tongue’s sword I die.
Yep, still coursework-bound. It was getting quite stressful so I thought I’d have a break and play around with some of the commonplaces of Courtly Love poetry in the sonnet form, which was really enjoyable.