Sonnet I

Above a grove where silly sparrows sing,
In the hills below that Mount Parnassus,
To which doom'd lambs and kids the priests do bring,
Stands of walnut trees are clumped in masses.
There I, the sole eternal Phoenix perch,
Bending low the branch beneath my fiery bulk.
Thousand deaths have I; thousand lives to search
Nightly skies for sun, that bright and blinding hulk,
Daily rising o'er Delphi before me,
Fiercely greeting my hard and calloused eyes,
To slake my thirst for some divinity --
All day long I watch it fall to rise.
        And if seven suns were there I'd watch them too
        But when you wake -- I cannot look at you.