Sonett-Forum

TO

I have a circlet of thy sunny hair,
And 'tis, I wot, a blessing to mine eyes —
For gentle, happy thoughts are sworn to rise
Whene'er I view it softly folded there.
Lifeless and listless,^ like a treasure's key,
Unwitting of the dreams it doth compel
Of gems and gold piled high in secret cell.
Too royal for a vulgar gaze to see !
If they were stolen, the key might never tell ;
If thou wert dead, what should thy ringlet say ?
It shows the same, betide thee ill or well.
Smiling on earth, or shrouded in decay !
And were cold winter with thee, Isabel,
I might be smiling here on blossoms of thy May !