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Sonnets Was it the morning when I saw your face?
no – sunset came a’wand’ring with your tread,
denying plain a sunlight thrown in place
when you my, I your noticings had read.
The warmth unphysical drawn from your sight
perhaps in unintention had such shine,
yet in that instant, burdened with that light,
my eyes directly found a happy line.
What burden could this present station be,
that I would shirk these sights unsatisfied;
what awful weight could fall full-force on me
that such a vision damned would be espied?
If life will give me visions such as these
it would be folly to be not well-pleased.
