The Sonnet

The Sonnet

by Dante Gabriel Rossetti 

A sonnet is a moment’s monument,

Memorial from the Soul’s eternity

To one dead deathless hour.  Look that it be,

Whether for lustral rite or dire portent,

Of its own arduous fullness reverent:

Carve it in ivory or in ebony.

As Day or Night may rule; and let Time see

Its flowering crest impearled and orient.

A Sonnet is a coin: its face reveals

The soul, - its converse, to what Power ‘tis due: -

Whether for tribute to the august appeals

Of Life, or dower in Love’s high retinue

It serve; or, ‘mid the dark wharf’s cavernous breath,

In Charon’s palm it pay the toll of Death.