XXIII <br /> <br />Methought I saw my late espoused saint <br />Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave, <br />Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave, <br />Rescued from death by force, though pale and faint. <br />Mine, as whom washed from spot of child-bed taint <br />Purification in the Old Law did save, <br />And such, as yet once more I trust to have <br />Full sight of her in Heav'n without restraint, <br />Came vested all in white, pure as her mind: <br />Her face was veiled, yet to my fancied sight <br />Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shined <br />So clear, as in no face with more delight. <br />But O, as to embrace me she inclined, <br />I waked, she fled, and day brought back my night.<br /><br />John Milton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-23/
