Sonnet VIII

 Oft as by chance, a little while apart 
The pall of empty, loveless hours withdrawn, 
Sweet Beauty, opening on the impoverished heart, 
Beams like the jewel on the breast of dawn: 
Not though high heaven should rend would deeper awe 
Fill me than penetrates my spirit thus, 
Nor all those signs the Patmian prophet saw 
Seem a new heaven and earth so marvelous; 
But, clad thenceforth in iridescent dyes, 
The fair world glistens, and in after days 
The memory of kind lips and laughing eyes 
Lives in my step and lightens all my face, -- 
So they who found the Earthly Paradise 
Still breathed, returned, of that sweet, joyful place.

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