Sonett-Forum

To a Lofty Beauty,
from her Poor Kinsman

Fair maid, had I not heard thy baby cries,
Nor seen thy girlish, sweet vicissitude,
Thy mazy motions, striving to elude,
Yet wooning still a parent’s watchful eyes,

Thy humours, many as the opal’s dyes,
And lovely all; - methinks thy scornful mood,
And bearing high of stately womanhood, -
Thy brow, where Beauty sits to tyrannize

O’er humble love, had made me sadly fear thee;
For never sure ws seen a royal bride
Whose gentleness gave grace to so much pride –

My very thoughts would tremble to be near thee:
But when I see thee at thy father’s side,
Old times unqueen thee, and old loves endear thee.