Sonnet Vi: Fair Is My Love

Fair is my love, and cruel as she's fair; Her brow shades frowns, although her eyes are sunny; Her smiles are lightning, though her pride despair; And her disdains are gall, her favors honey. A modest maid, deck'd with a blush of honor, Whose feet do tread green paths of youth and love, The wonder of all eyes that look upon her, Sacred on earth, design'd a saint above. Chastity and Beauty, which are deadly foes, Live reconciled friends within her brow; And had she pity to conjoin with those, Then who had heard the plaints I utter now? O had she not been fair and thus unkind, My Muse had slept, and none had known my mind.