Why art thou chang'd? O Phaon! tell me why? <br />Love flies reproach, when passion feels decay; <br />Or, I would paint the raptures of that day, <br />When, in sweet converse, mingling sigh with sigh, <br />I mark'd the graceful languor of thine eye <br />As on a shady bank entranc'd we lay: <br />O! Eyes! whose beamy radiance stole away <br />As stars fade trembling from the burning sky! <br />Why art thou chang'd? dear source of all my woes! <br />Though dark my bosom's tint, through ev'ry vein <br />A ruby tide of purest lustre flows, <br />Warm'd by thy love, or chill'd by thy disdain; <br />And yet no bliss this sensate Being knows; <br />Ah! why is rapture so allied to pain?<br /><br />Mary Darby Robinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xviii-why-art-thou-chang-d/
