Love Sonnet 73: I feel the winds of Olympus blowing,
I feel the winds of Olympus blowing,
That chill my feet on pedestals, gilded,
Minstrels on harps, incessantly singing,
Recounting quests, triumphantly ended;
But bring me down to where my princess waits,
Better repose is offered on her laps,
Bardic are songs, her soft raving creates;
Are there quests sweeter than her love, perhaps?
I bring no dragon's head cast at her feet,
Nor captive slaves from kingdoms torn apart,
And not a single ship from fleeing fleet,
But lovely rose, and with it goes my heart;
……I lay vanquished, imprisoned in her charms,
……Now at her feet lie, my armor and arms.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
Added by Poetry Lover
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