Sonnet 30: Beads of Silvered Night

Alone with the damping of summer's might,

my hand's listless stir of the curtain's edge,

betrayed, that hidden within day's first light

lies the sparkle of true love's feather fledge;

pillowed on dark, like beads of silvered night

each of the thousand strong, a lover's pledge,

taken to keep by the morning star bright

from the flowers shy of meadow and hedge

make haste the kindly fade before my sight,

of sadness seen from the cold window's ledge,

and hide once more the silver hearts of night

putting to rest my hand from the curtain's edge.

Spare my eyes for none shine above for me,

my kisses though all true, just not meant to be