Sonnet 33

Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the
mountain-tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;
Anon
permit the basest clouds to ride
With
ugly rack on his celestial face,
And from the
forlorn world his visage hide,
Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace:
Even so my sun
one early morn did shine
With all
triumphant splendor on my brow;
But out,
alack! he was but one hour mine;
The region cloud
hath mask'd him from me now.
Yet him for this
my love no whit disdaineth;
Suns of the
world may stain when heaven's sun sustaineth.

William Shakespeare
Illuminated by Julie Korochik
Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

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