XXXIII

    Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding¹ pale streams with heavenly alchemy； Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial² face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace： Even so my sun one early morn did shine, With all triumphant³ splendour on my brow； But out！ alack！ he was but one hour mine, The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now. Yet him for this my love no whit⁴ disdaineth； Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth.