letra de sonnet iii: unlike are we - oskar morawetz
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unlike are we, unlike, o princely heart!
unlike our uses and our destinies
our ministering two angels look surprise
on one another, as they strike athwart
their wings in passing. thou, bethink thee, art
a guest for queens to social pageantries
with gages from a hundred brighter eyes
than tears [even]1 can make mine, to ply thy part
of chief musician. what hast thou to do
with looking from the lattice-lights at me
a poor, tired, wandering singer, … singing through
the dark, and leaning up a cypress tree?
the chrism is on thine head, — on mine, the dew, —
and death must dig the level where these agree
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