11,112,006,825,558,016 Sonnets(after Queneau)Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?Upon thyself thy beauty's legacy? Doth homage to his new-appearing sight, With beauty's treasure, ere it be self-kill'd. When lofty trees I see barren of leaves The bounteous largess given thee to give? They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel. Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee Strikes each in each by mutual ordering, Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft, What acceptable audit canst thou leave? Make thee another self, for love of me, Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.
|
