Sonnet 72 'The Beauty of the Day Is In Your Face'
The Beauty of the Day is in your face,
It shines like soft light in the dappled shade.
Enfolds my heart and makes it beat apace,
Its radiance is of golden sunlight made.
O, daring flies the heron, flies by me
And dares me, soft, to take your quiet hand.
Of Hopes, there are particularly three
That march beside me up the golden sand:
That I may hold your smile within my heart,
That some bright day, I may your fingers, kiss
That I, in light, may paint you, Sacred art.
These three, and by the falling water's bliss
We, two, sit peaceful and the heron praise
Who wakened in my heart this song of days.
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