Sonnet 9

Not earthly charms,—nor heavenly are alone,
In thine incomparable grace exprest;
'Tis holiness in human beauty drest,
Time's shade around immortal brightness thrown:
Now chain'd to fleeting love—and now upflown
From the faint passions of a time-bound breast,
To the unclouded sunshine of the blest;
From dust and darkness—to the lightning's throne.
There stars roll o'er thee,—from whose radiant light
Thou didst receive the rays thou scatter'st round,
While flashing like a vision on the sight;
Say wert thou moulded from the clayey ground,
That I may love thee?—if thou art divine—
An angel—I will worship at thy shrine.