XXXII <br /> <br />The first time that the sun rose on thine oath <br />To love me, I looked forward to the moon <br />To slacken all those bonds which seemed too soon <br />And quickly tied to make a lasting troth. <br />Quick-loving hearts, I thought, may quickly loathe; <br />And, looking on myself, I seemed not one <br />For such man's love!—more like an out-of-tune <br />Worn viol, a good singer would be wroth <br />To spoil his song with, and which, snatched in haste, <br />Is laid down at the first ill-sounding note. <br />I did not wrong myself so, but I placed <br />A wrong on thee. For perfect strains may float <br />'Neath master-hands, from instruments defaced,— <br />And great souls, at one stroke, may do and doat.<br /><br />Elizabeth Barrett Browning<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-32-the-first-time-that-the-sun-rose-on-th/
