Sonnet I
NOR judge me light, tho' light at times I seem,And lightly in the stress of fortune bearThe innumerable flaws of changeful care -Nor judge me light for this, nor rashly deem(Office forbid to mortals, kept supremeAnd separate the prerogative of God!)That seaman idle who is borne abroadTo the far haven by the favouring stream.Not he alone that to contrarious seasOpposes, all night long, the unwearied oar,Not he alone, by high success endeared,Shall reach the Port; but, winged, with some light breezeShall they, with upright keels, pass in beforeWhom easy Taste, the golden pilot, steered.
Sign in to like, rate and collect poems, and keep track of what you've read.