Love Sonnet 54 She is Galatea, sculpted by dreams,
She is Galatea, sculpted by dreams,
Fit for gems of Phaeton's sisters' tears,
My mind would fill with thoughts flowing like streams,
For her, which by the Styx, my heart now swears;
If coldness be the hallmark of her charms,
Know that by choice she is a live statue,
Given to dire passion that never warms,
All due to renderings of pure virtue;
Should Aphrodite grant a wish fulfilled,
As what by luck Pygmalion once achieved,
Nothing could make this poor dreamer get thrilled,
Than have the truth of what his heart believed;
.....That she could stir awake for his relief,
.....With not an amber tear for love in grief.