Sonnet 26. I Ever Love To Despair I ever love where never hope appears, Yet hope draws on my never-hoping care, And my life's hope would die, but for despair; My never-certain joy breeds ever-certain fears; Uncertain dread gives wings unto my hope, Yet my hope's wings are laden so with fear As they cannot ascend to my hope's sphere; Though fear gives them more than a heav'nly scope, Yet this large room is bounded with despair; So my love is still fetter'd with vain hope, And liberty deprives him of his scope, And thus am I imprison'd in the air. Then, sweet despair, awhile hold up thy head, Or all my hope for sorrow will be dead. |
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