To see the moment holds a madrigal, <br />To find some cloistered place, some hermitage <br />For free devices, some deliberate cage <br />Wherein to keep wild thoughts like birds in thrall; <br />To eat sweet honey and to taste black gall, <br />To fight with form, to wrestle and to rage, <br />Till at the last upon the conquered page <br />The shadows of created Beauty fall. <br /> <br />This is the sonnet, this is all delight <br />Of every flower that blows in every Spring, <br />And all desire of every desert place; <br />This is the joy that fills a cloudy night <br />When bursting from her misty following, <br />A perfect moon wins to an empty space.<br /><br />Lord Alfred Douglas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-on-the-sonnet/
