Amoretti IV: The Eremite’s Desire

Author’s Note: Spenserian sonnet without meter.

And I now abiding by my vow
Rest in this cloistered eremite’s cell
And though my spirit must drink now —
And forever, only where runs the Godly dell,
I find sometimes that even the chiming bell,
Solemn as it is at the hour of the vespers,
Is a stray temptation, thought I cannot quell
And even the wind which through the terebinth whispers
Swells with the cantos of some maiden-song, voiceless
And the verdure the willows wear in the deep of May
Are tresses falling in careless waves, boundless
And often when the eight hours call to silence and I pray
I wander in spirit over the laity’s distant ways
In search of that unmet beauty who haunts my days


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