LIKE a musician that with flying finger 
Startles the voice of some new instrument, 
And, though he know that in one string are blent 
All its extremes of sound, yet still doth linger 
Among the lighter threads, fearing to start 
The deep soul of that one melodious wire, 
Lest it, unanswering, dash his high desire, 
And spoil the hopes of his expectant heart; 
Thus, with my mistress oft conversing, I 
Stir every lighter theme with careless voice, 
Gathering sweet music and celestial joys 
From the harmonious soul o?er which I fly; 
Yet o?er the one deep master-chord I hover, 
And dare not stoop, fearing to tell?I love her.