Sonett-Forum

I COUNT my time by times that I meet thee;
These are my yesterdays, my morrows, noons
And nights; these my old moons and my new moons.
Slow fly the hours, fast the hours flee,
If thou art far from or art near to me:
If thou art far, the birds' tunes are no tunes
If thou art near, the wintry days are Junes,
Darkness is light, and sorrow cannot be.
Thou art my dream come true, and thou my dream,
The air I breathe, the world wherein I dwell;
My journey's end thou art, and thou the way;
Thou art what I would be, yet only seem
Thou art my heaven and thou art my hell;
Thou art my ever-living judgment day.