Sonnet Xxxiii

William Shakespeare

     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 staineth.

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