English Sonnet

If by some chance a lady should find me
so in my head her image is printed
and, also, I feel her mind too can see
such a vision of me so beloved;

then a union will I pursue so that
we may be joined in passion and in love.
This, I hope, has been the case; love in fact.
You have lain me flat, angel from above,

with your heav’nly beauty, soft skin, rad’iant
eyes and willowy stature. A rare thing
indeed to seize my attentions so. Can’t
I refuse your beauty? I hear you sing,

and think again upon it. Why would I?
The heavens are jealous, the rain their cry.