Sonnet XV

Accuse me not, beseech thee, that I wear

Too calm and sad a face in front of thine;

For we two look two ways, and cannot shine

With the same sunlight on our brow and hair.

On me thou lookest, with no doubting care,

As on a bee shut in a crystalline,—

For sorrow hath shut me safe in love's divine,

And to spread wing and fly in the outer air

Were most impossible failure, if I strove

To fail so. But I look on thee.. on thee..

Beholding, besides love, the end of love,

Hearing oblivion beyond memory...

As one who sits and gazes, from above,

Over the rivers to the bitter sea.