Attempted Spenserian Sonnet

When first my eyes did fall to rest on thine,
I thought the earth did cease, at once, to move,
And drunk was I, as though with heady wine;
No faults of yours could I set out to prove.
The haze was slow to fade, but I did lose
The blindness that my heart afflicted me,
And shocked was I to find out that my muse
Was not Eros, but human thoroughly.
In grief, I cried and fell on bended knee,
To mourn my loss of idealistic views,
While you started long at my naivety
And caught my tears and caused them to subdue.

“What good is it,” you asked, “to be divine?
When love’s not eye-to-eye, but shrine-to-shrine?”