My tears are like the quiet drift
Of petals from some magic rose;
And all my grief flows from the rift
Of unremembered skies and snows.
I think, that if I touched the earth,
It would crumble;
It is so sad and beautiful,
So tremulously like a dream.
Dylan Thomas
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Holy Sonnet VIII: If Faithful Souls Be Alike Glorified by John Donne
Holy Sonnet VII: At the round earth’s imagin’d corners by John Donne
Holy Sonnet V I am a Little World made Cunningly by John Donne
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