XXXI

=Sonnet=

Oh, Beauty, passing beauty! sweetest Sweet!

How canst thou let me waste my youth in sighs;

I only ask to sit beside thy feet.

Thou knowest I dare not look into thine eyes,

Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare not fold

My arms about thee--scarcely dare to speak.

And nothing seems to me so wild and bold,

As with one kiss to touch thy blessèd cheek.

Methinks if I should kiss thee, no control

Within the thrilling brain could keep afloat

The subtle spirit. Even while I spoke,

The bare word KISS hath made my inner soul

To tremble like a lutestring, ere the note

Hath melted in the silence that it broke.

The Suppressed Poems of Alfred Lord Tennyson · 第 51 / 86 题