Long-with-love-acquainted Eyes

January 30, 2009

Convinced, today, that Sidney’s “Astrophil and Stella” is the greatest of sonnet sequences. I keep repeating to myself snippets of–

With how sad steps, O Moone, thou climbst the skies!
How silently, and with how wanne a face!
What, may it be that euen in heau'nly place
That busie archer his sharpe arrowes tries?
Sure, if that long-with-loue-acquainted eyes
Can iudge of loue, thou feel'st a louers case,
I reade it in thy lookes: thy languist grace,
To me that feele the like, thy state discries.
Then, eu'n of fellowship, O Moone, tell me,
Is constant loue deem'd there but want of wit?
Are beauties there as proud as here they be?
Do they aboue loue to be lou'd, and yet
Those louers scorn whom that loue doth possesse?
Do they call vertue there vngratefulnesse?

– ravished each time I come to “long-with-love-acquainted-eyes.”

Tea with Jason, then a session of painting at the almost-warm-enough studio. He’ll be good for me. I think my painting’s done when it expresses the meaning I meant it to express. He thinks it’s done when it is a work of art.