Sonnet LIII: Clear Anker
Another to the River Anker
Clear Anker, on whose silver-sanded shoreMy soul-shrin'd saint, my fair Idea, lies,O blessed brook, whose milk-white swans adoreThe crystal stream refined by her eyes,Where sweet myrrh-breathing Zephyr in the SpringGently distils his nectar-dropping showers,Where nightingales in Arden sit and singAmong the dainty dew-impearled flowers;Say thus, fair Brook, when thou shalt see thy Queen,"Lo, here thy shepherd spent his wand'ring years,And in these shades, dear nymph, he oft hath been,And here to thee he sacrific'd his tears."Fair Arden, thou my Tempe art alone,And thou, sweet Anker, art my Helicon.
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