Little Sonnet to Little
15 lines✦
T not the proud of heart condemnMe that I mould my ways to hers,Groping for healing in a hem No wind of passion ever stirs; Nor let them sweetly pity meWhen I am out of sound and sight;They waste their time and energy;No mares encumber me at night. Always a trifle fond and strange, And some have said a bit bizarre, Say, ‘““Here’s the sun,” I would not changeIt for my dead and burnt-out star. Shine as it will, I have no doubt Some day the sun, too, may go out. 16
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