But here, my sweetest love, and now, I pray
That shouldst thou know, as sure as once thou knew,
That shouldst thou neither worry, nor construe
Of me, nor any kind of doubt, display,
That shan’t I, once I have returned, convey,
Though lost, as found, or never I withdrew
From out the safety of thine arms. I do
Believe that thou shalt, ‘ever charmed this way,
Remain my fragrant, soul refreshing, wine,
Most perfect, thou, and infinitely sweet;
And shalt thou be the crystal–and I think,
A vessel that, so finished and complete,
That Holiest of Holies, made divine,
Thy beauty and thy grace–Wherewith I drink.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all: