Sonnet I: Thou art not lovelier than lilacs

Sonnet I: Thou art not lovelier than lilacs

Thou art not lovelier than lilacs,--no,
Nor honeysuckle; thou art not more fair
Than small white single poppies,--I can bear

Thy beauty; though I bend before thee, though

From left to right, not knowing where to go,
I turn my troubled eyes, nor here nor there
Find any refuge from thee, yet I swear

So has it been with mist,--with moonlight so.
Like him who day by day unto his draught

Of delicate poison adds him one drop more
Till he may drink unharmed the death of ten,
Even so, inured to beauty, who have quaffed

Each hour more deeply than the hour before,
I drink--and live--what has destroyed some men.