Sonnet 12

My love long-labored found its object near
At hand at last and spent its force before
It could accustomed be to what was more
Important than what once had seemed so dear.
In contemplation of deep affection's
Gifts; for surely there the secret lies.
A shared experience creates the ties
That comfort later years' fond reflections.
So many sources feed into the streams
That form attachments between human hearts
And lives in union go in fits and starts
Which lack the symmetry of poets' dreams
My love lacks nothing that it could not lose
Not struggling now maintains a pure repose.