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XXXIII.
Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the
mountain-tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden
face the meadows green,
Gilding pale streams with
heavenly alchemy;
Anon permit the basest clouds to
ride
With ugly rack on his celestial face,
And
from the forlorn world his visage hide,
Stealing
unseen to west with this disgrace:
Even so my sun one
early morn did shine
With all triumphant splendor on
my brow;
But out, alack! he was but one hour mine;
The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now.
Yet him
for this my love no whit disdaineth;
Suns of the
world may stain when heaven's sun staineth.
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