Behold what hap Pygmalion had to frame
And carve his proper grief upon a stone;
My heavy fortune is much like the same:
I work on flint, and that's the cause I moan.
For hapless, lo, ev'n with mine own desires,
I figur'd on the table of my heart
The fairest form, the world's eye admires,
And so did perish by my proper art.
And still I toil, to change the marble breast
Of her, whose sweetest grace I do adore,
Yet cannot find her breath unto my rest:
Hard is her heart, and woe is me, therefore.
O happy he that joy'd his stone and art,
Unhappy I to love a stony heart.
Sonnet Xiii: Behold What Hap
Samuel Daniel
(1)
Poem topics: breath, change, grief, happy, joy, work, world, hard, heavy, adore, perish, fortune, love, I love you, stone, heart, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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