William Shakespeare
Warwickshire
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Sonnet Xxiii

Rating: 3.6
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;
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COMMENTS
Fabrizio Frosini 05 January 2016
Overcome by nervous hesitancy and trepidation, the poet cannot declare all his love for his friend. His Sonnets must speak for him..
15 0 Reply
Fabrizio Frosini 05 January 2016
Having committed himself perhaps more than he intended, the poet now has to explain why at times he is tongue-tied in his love's company. It is, he says, mainly due to the magnitude of his love, the hugeness of it being such that it becomes like a burden almost too large to carry. He is like an actor who cannot remember his lines, or a wild beast in a fury thrashing around in futility, unable to achieve anything. Let his love come to the rescue by understanding his looks, how they speak silently, how they foretell the store of love which is buried within, even more so than that other (poet? lover?) who is so glib with his tongue. Although love is blind, he has the ability, if he wishes, to hear with his eyes.
15 0 Reply
Brian Jani 26 April 2014
Awesome I like this poem, check mine out 
1 1 Reply

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