The Sonnet

But thou hast read how Cleopatra went To Antony, her lustrous eyes a-shine, Through mazy webs of love fit to entwine A simple conqueror palaced in a tent; And how her pearl, a monnrch's ransom, blent Its iridescence with the sharp white wine To pleasure her, as with an air divine She quaffed it to the Roman's dazzlement. In such wise make, and take, a sonnet. Throw Into the wine emotion, the pure pearl Of artistry, and while 'tis yet a-swirl And beading bravely, snare with subtile craft A gleam of golden light upon it--so! Then, breathless, drain it at a single draught!