Sonnet CXII:
CXII
Gone, gone! The rayless window sheds no light
Upon my upturned eyes; the graceful girl
Whose distant presence made my senses whirl,
Is but a memory of the empty night.
Tears, bitter tears! O where, thou creature bright,
Life of my heart, my pure, transcendent pearl,
Has darkness caught thee in its giddy swirl,
And drowned thy beauties to thy lover’s sight?
Gone, gone! And I so desolate! O bell,
Chiming for vespers, but in every tone
Echoing my anguish with thy airy groan;
Why mock my heart with thy accordant groan?
Why make Heaven’s dismal hollow ache and swell
With that one doleful sentence—gone, gone, gone?
