SONNET 123
Appellations festive, t' such Love's most uncommon;
Dare I groan a different groan, of work and play
Now apathy deserts what comfort blew sand on
Forbidding romance had with this derelict clay
In my skull mine soul's, too, a foreign flatt'rer crowned
Responsibly abused; love pursued is love lost,
And phenom'nal resolve was madrigal; abound
T' love in spite of the flesh that separates us,
T' love her 's if with gentle luck, safer sound sheared blots
Finding her noumenal a million miles away
Wasn't far enough. Whose search, terr' cotta 'ppeared clots
A glaze-faded night, the thousandth cut had forsake,
My muses, let me sleep that I may contemplate
You longer in the coming deep inanimate.
