Sonnet Cxxxv:
G
George Henry Boker
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I never wished for wings as yesternight,
When my imprisoned darling sadly came
Before her window, leaned against the frame,
And with her beauty starred the sullen night.
O envious air! O empty space! O might
Of nature's laws! O most apparent shame
To Love's endowment! That this eager flame
Wanted mere wings, with open heaven in sight!
Had I been blessed no more than yonder dove,
Watching his cooing mate upon the eave,
I would have prized my pinions far above
The gift with which this silly song I weave,
As of dull earth I took my scornful leave,
And in thy bosom nestled me, my Love.
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