Lord, I have loved your sky, Be it said against or for me, Have loved it clear and high, Or low and stormy; Till I have reeled and stumbled From looking up too much, And fallen and been humbled To wear a crutch. My love for every Heaven O'er which you, Lord, have lorded, From number One to Seven Should be rewarded. I should not dare to hope That when I am translated My scalp will in the cope Be constellated. But if that seems to tend To my undue renown, At least you ought to send Me up, not down. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARSHALL WASHER by HAYDEN CARRUTH MARRIAGE by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE DEIL'S AWA WI' TH' EXCISEMAN by ROBERT BURNS IRELAND by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR MONNA INNOMINATA, A SONNET OF SONNETS: 11 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SONNET: 19 by RICHARD BARNFIELD |