Explore "Sonnets from the Portuguese" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The first time that the sun rose on thine oath / To love me, I looked forward to the moon / To slacken all those bonds which seemed too soon / And quickly tied to make a lasting troth.
Quick-loving hearts, I thought, may quickly loathe; / And, looking on myself, I seemed not one / For such man's love!-more like an out-of-tune / Worn viol, a good singer would be wroth / To spoil his song with, and which, snatched in haste, / Is laid down at the first ill-sounding note.