Read "To -- -- -" by Maria Lowell online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Sonnet.
I love thee -- not because thy love for me, / Like a great sunrise, did o'ervault my day
With purple light, and wrought upon my way
The morning dew in fresh emblazonry; / Nor that thou seest all I fain would be, / And thus dost call me by mine angel's name, / While still my woman's heart beats free of blame
Beneath the shelter of thy charity.
Oh, no! for wearily upon my soul
Would weigh thy golden crown of unbought praise, / Did I not look beyond the hour's control, / To where those fruits of perfect virtue raise
Their bloom, that thou erewhile, with prophet eyes, / Didst name mine own, in groves of paradise.