Test 3 Final Crowley TTU

The sounds of sighs with which I fed my heart
my first errant youthful days when I
in part was not the man I am today;

For al lthe ways in which I weep and speak
between vain hopes, between vain suffering.
in anyone who knows love through its trials,
in them, may I find pity and forgiveness

But now I see how Ive become the talk
so long a time of people all around
(it often makes me feel so full of shame)

And from my vanities, there comes shame’s fruit.
and my reprentance, and the clear awareness
that worldy joy is just a fleeting dream.

with pity for the suffering of his Maker
when I was caught (and I put up no fight),
my lady, for your lovely eyes had me bound.

It seemed no time to be on guard against
loves blows; therefore, I went my way
secure and fearless—so all my misfortune
began in midst of universal woe.was

Love found me all disarmed and daw the way
was clear to reach my heart down through the eyes,
which have beceome the halls and doors of tears.

It seems to me it did him little honor
to wound me with his arrow in my state
and to you, armed, not show his bow at all.

Season and hour and very moment blest,
The lovely land and place where first possessed
By two pure eyes I found me prisoner;

And blest the first sweet pain, the first most dear
which burnt my heart when Love came as a guest;
And blest the bow, the shafts which shook my breast.
and even the wounds which love delivered there.

Blest be the words and voices which fill grove
and glen the echos of my ladys name;
the sighs, the tears, the fierce despaire of love

And blest the sonnet-sources of my fame;
and blest that thought of thoughts which is her own,
of her, her only, of herself alone!

Each night spent raving with that fierce desire
which in my heart has kindled into fire
seeing your acts adorned for my dismay;

Grant henceforth that I turn, which in your light
to another life and deeds more truly fair.
so having spread to no avail the snare
my bitter foe might hold it in despite.

The eleventh year, my Lord, has now come round
since I was yoked beneath the heavy trace
That on the meekest weighs more cruelly