Sonnet 45: The Other Two, Slight Air and Purging Fire
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The other two, slight air and purging fire,
Are both with thee, wherever I abide; The first, my thought, the other, my desire, These present-absent with swift motion slide, For when these quicker elements are gone In tender embassy of love to thee, My life, being made of four, with two alone Sinks down to earth oppressed with melancholy, Until life's composition be recured By those swift messengers returned from thee Who even but now come back again, assured Of thy fair health, recounting it to me. This told, I joy, but then, no longer glad, I send them back again and straight grow sad. |
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