Sometimes I fain would find in thee some fault, <br />That I might love thee still in spite of it: <br />Yet how should our Lord Love curtail one whit <br />Thy perfect praise whom most he would exalt? <br />Alas! he can but make my heart's low vault <br />Even in men's sight unworthier, being lit <br />By thee, who thereby show'st more exquisite <br />Like fiery chrysoprase in deep basalt. <br />Yet will I nowise shrink; but at Love's shrine <br />Myself within the beams his brow doth dart <br />Will set the flashing jewel of thy heart <br />In that dull chamber where it deigns to shine: <br />For lo! in honour of thine excellencies <br />My heart takes pride to show how poor it is.<br /><br />Dante Gabriel Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xxxv-the-lamp-s-shrine/
