Posted by azngeek at December 17th, 2006

What light is light, if she be not seen?
What joy is joy, if she be not by?

Unless it be to think that she is by,
And feed upon the shadow of perfection,

Except I be by her in the night,
There is no music in the nightingale;

Unless I look on her in the day,
There is no day for me to look upon;

She is my essence, and I leave to be,
If I be not by her fair influence,
Foster’d, illumined, cherish’d, kept alive.