, by William Shakespeare
Full many a glorious morning I have seen
Flatter the mountain tops
with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gliding 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
Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace.
Even so my sun one early morn did shine
With all triumphant splendour on my brow;
But out, alack, he was but one hour mine
The region cloud hath masked him from me now.
Yet him for this my love no whit
Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth.
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