Of mee, thy love, hast thou such wonders seen,
Though many true, hast not thou seen these all;
Hast not, my dance as stole thy breath away,
So long before and far removed from thine.

Imagine thou what doth breathtaking mean,
If watch me dance thou wouldst as watch me fall.
And long before, this beauty I convey,
So lovely, this I played, who’s bow were mine.

And this, by thee unheard, and thee unseen,
Hath made the harsh to weep, the weak to pall.
Yet heard, hast thou, my song most every day;
And seen thou, throngs, as water turned to wine….

And yet, thy mien my love, could angels thrall;
One day, in Heaven, show me these divine.

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

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