Sonet 37 Poem by William Alexander

I cannot comprehend how this doth come,
Thou whose affections neuer yet were warme,
Which cold disdaine with leaden thoughts doth arme:
Though in thy selfe still cold, yet burn'st thou some.
Euen as the Sunne (as th'Astrologian dreames)
In th'airie region where it selfe doth moue,
Is neuer hote, yet darting from aboue,
Doth parch all things that repercusse his beames:
So thou that in thy selfe from fires art free,
Who eye's indifferent still, as Titans stayes,
Whil'st I am th'obiect that reflect thy rayes:
That which thou neuer hadst, thou workst in me.
Since but below thou shew'st that power of thine,
I would the Zodiacke be whence thou dost shine.