A New Acquaintance of Thy Mind: Day 9

Farewell! No more, through all my weary days,

Shall I upon thy beauty cast mine eye;

Though I may still address to thee my praise,

No more shalt thou in merry jest reply.

E'en now, thou gone, upon my longing ear

Thy laughter and thy whispers seem to fall;

Thou, best belov'd, shalt daily grow more dear;

All splendour else may with the seasons pall,

But thy eternal summer shall not fade:

Time cannot touch thee in thy hallow'd rest.

All else his sickle's malice may invade,

But thou hast fell'd him in his fell arrest.

Though ta'en from me, e'en in defeat art thou

The victor yet: he cannot harm thee now.