Oh, for a perfect sonnet of all time! <br />Wild music, heralding immortal hopes, <br />Strikes the bold prelude. To it from each clime, <br />Like tropic birds on some green island slopes, <br />Thoughts answering come, high metaphors, brave tropes, <br />In ordered measure and majestic rhyme. <br />And, presently, all hearts, kings', poets', popes', <br />Throb to the truth of this new theme sublime. <br />Anon 'tis reason speaks. A note of death <br />Strengthens the symphony yet fraught with pain, <br />And men seek meanings with abated breath, <br />Vexing their souls,--till lo, once more, the strain <br />Breaks through triumphant, and Love's master voice <br />Thrills the last phrase and bids all joy rejoice.<br /><br />Wilfrid Scawen Blunt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-perfect-sonnet/
