SONNET XXIX

I think of thee! -- my thoughts do twine and bud
About thee, as wild vines about a tree
Put out broad leaves, and soon there's nought to see
Except the straggling green which hides the wood
Yet, O my palm-tree, be it understood
I will not have my thoughts instead of thee
Who art dearer, better! Rather instantly
Renew thy presence; as a strong tree should,
Rustle thy boughs and set thy trunk all bare,
And let these bands of greenery which insphere thee
Drop heavily down, -- burst, shattered, everywhere!
Because, in this deep joy to see and hear thee

And breathe within thy shadow a new air

I do not think of thee -- I am too near thee