Sonnet XXXIV
Though destiny half broke her cruel bars,
Herself contriving we should meet on earth,
And with thy beauty fed my spirit’s dearth
And tuned to love the ages’ many jars,
Yet there is potency in natal stars;
And we were far divided in our birth
By nature’s gifts and half the planet’s girth,
And speech, and faith, and blood, and ancient wars.
Alas! thy very radiance made division,
Thy youth, thy friends, and all men’s eyes that wooed
Thy simple kindness came as in derision
Of so much love and so much solitude;
Or did the good gods order all to show
How far the single strength of love can go?
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