Verse > Anthologies > Hunt and Lee, eds. > The Book of the Sonnet
Hunt and Lee, comps.  The Book of the Sonnet.  1867.
I. Euterpe
By Thomas Bailey Aldrich (1836–1907)
NOW if Euterpe held me not in scorn,
  I ’d shape a lyric, perfect, fair, and round
  As that thin band of gold wherewith I bound
Your slender finger our betrothal morn.
Not of Desire alone is music born,        5
  Not till the Muse wills is our passion crowned:
  Unsought she comes, if sought but seldom found.
Hence is it poets often are forlorn,
Taciturn, shy, self-immolated, pale,
  Taking no healthy pleasure in their kind,        10
Wrapt in their dream as in a coat of mail.
  Hence is it I, the least, a very hind,
Have stolen away into this leafy vale,
  Drawn by the flutings of the silvery wind.

Shakespeare · Bible · Strunk · Anatomy · Nonfiction · Quotations · Reference · Fiction · Poetry
© 1993–2015 · [Top 150] · Subjects · Titles · Authors · World Lit.