Verse > Anthologies > Hunt and Lee, eds. > The Book of the Sonnet
Hunt and Lee, comps.  The Book of the Sonnet.  1867.
III. Sonnet: “O, were I loved as I desire to be”
By Alfred Tennyson (1809–1892)
O, WERE I loved as I desire to be!
  What is there in the great sphere of the earth,
  Or range of evil between death and birth,
  That I should fear,—if I were loved by thee?
All the inner, all the outer world of pain,        5
  Clear love would pierce and cleave, if thou wert mine;
  As I have heard that somewhere in the main
  Fresh-water springs come up through bitter brine.
’T were joy, not fear, clasped hand in hand with thee,
  To wait for death—mute—careless of all ills,        10
  Apart upon a mountain, though the surge
Of some new deluge from a thousand hills
  Flung leagues of roaring foam into the gorge
  Below us, as far on as eye could see.

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