Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SONNET: 12, by WILLIAM DRUMMOND OF HAWTHORNDEN


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SONNET: 12, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: As in a duskie and tempestuous night
Last Line: With his pale trophees death hath hung his armes.
Alternate Author Name(s): Drummond, William


As in a duskie and tempestuous Night,
A Starre is wont to spreade her Lockes of Gold,
And while her pleasant Rayes abroad are roll'd,
Some spiteful Cloude doth robbe us of her Sight:
(Faire Soule) in this black Age so shin'd thou bright,
And made all Eyes with Wonder thee beholde,
Till uglie Death depriving us of Light,
In his grimme mistie Armes thee did enfolde.
Who more shall vaunt true Beautie heere to see?
What Hope doth more in any Heart remaine,
That such Perfections shall his Reason raine?
If Beautie with thee born too died with thee?
World, plaine no more of Love, nor count his Harmes,
With his pale Trophees Death hath hung his Armes.





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