Sonnet XXIII. When, with the Dawning of my first delight

Barnabe Barnes (1569?–1609)

WHEN, with the Dawning of my first delight,

The Daylight of love’s Delicacy moved me;

Then from heaven’s disdainful starry light,

The Moonlight of her Chastity reproved me.

Her forehead’s threatful clouds from hope removed me,

Till Midnight reared on the mid-noctial line;

Her heart whiles Pity’s slight had undershoved me,

Then did I force her downward to decline

Till Dawning daylight cheerfully did shine;

And by such happy revolution drew

Her Morning’s blush to joyful smiles incline.

And now Meridian heat dries up my dew;

There rest, fair Planets! Stay, bright orbs of day!

Still smiling at my dial, next eleven!