Sonnet

How can'st thou let me waste my youth in sighs?

I only ask to sit beside thy feet.

      Thou knowest I dare not look into thine eyes.

Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare not fold

      My arms about thee—scarcely dare to speak.

And nothing seems to me so wild and bold,

      As with one kiss to touch thy blessèd cheek.

Methinks if I should kiss thee, no control

      Within the thrilling brain could keep afloat

            The subtle spirit. Even while I spoke,

The bare word kiss hath made my inner soul

      To tremble like a lutestring, ere the note

            Hath melted in the silence that it broke.