literature

Eliza Sonnet 2

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Literature Text

Eliza, how that name doth make me swoon!
For when 'tis spoken from this lowly beak
It makes my breath to catch, my pulse goes weak;
Each moment 'part from you is like a wound.
For like a tiny columbine in bloom,
Forced to the shade. Yet it shall always seek
The golden sun. Like it, I may seem meek,
Yet for thee would I give my very plume!

Oh maiden fair, if I could give you wings,
I'd show you all the wonders of the skies,
But even then, I'd be the richest bird.
For though those wonders still might make me sing
'Tis nothing like the love that does arise
At mention of your name, that blesséd word.
Another sonnet for Eliza from Redventure 5.

Damask and poem are mine, Eliza is her author's.
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