Sonnet 10

Upon the morn, when breaks the sun's first light,

The verdant fields with dew, the air is sweet,

With solemn grace and beauty, day doth fight

To conquer night, and endless dark defeat.

So too, my love, when in thy presence fair,

The shadows of my mind and heart do flee,

And all that's bleak, consumed by thy stare,

Is turned to joy, and sweet serenity.

But in thy absence, like the moon's cold reign,

Despair doth creep, a serpent in the grass,

Its venom potent, coursing through each vein,

And all the world, a tempest wild and crass.

Yet, in thy radiant warmth, I find my rest,

In thee, my sun, I rise and am made blest.