Sonnet II: Deprived of Thee

My Rain, why left me here, hast thou, alone
Without, luxuriant cool, thy tender kiss?
Of thee, I dream, confess of that I miss,
Deprived of thy caress. My Rain, mine own

Sweet Rain, hath left me only wind, and blown
Away. Thy lofty havens toss and list
Astray. Hast thou forgotten me in bliss?
And am I not thy dearest love alone?

Come back to me, my cool and softing Rain!
And cover up this never-ending blue!
Touch now my lips, my hair, and end this pain
Of missing you. I long to see thy true
Face shining through my lonely night again,
So prest against my yearning lips anew.

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

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Sonnet I: Thine Alone

My beauty-rain, O let me feel thy cooling
Warmth again–thine effervescent touch;
To sink within thy sweetest nature, pooling;
Feel thy sweetest yield surround me such:

First hint of tender touch and faerie fire
So doth mee now thy promised passion lend,
And fill mee with my single heart’s desire:
To dance the love thine elements portend.

For thee, my passion climbeth as none other,
Yearning songs, yet melancholy, slow;
When thou art near, my gentle, warming love,
Thou bringest lasting peace though must thou goe.

Could any foolish mortal claim the right
To boast thou dost caress, unknowingly, thy man tonight?

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

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