Sonnet #1

February 19, 2009

How fair, like two celestial orbs, my dear!

How like the sun and moon -- and yet more bright

For knowledge; for symmetry more lovely-clear!

How shameful then, they should be closed, as night.

Can you not see that virtue's heat and fire

Are warm and happy with a holy glow?

Are you deceived, a girl without her sire,

By petty, pretty vice, and ice-pearls of snow?

When a glorious prince calls, do you sit him down,

Bring him fine red wine and fresh bread, my flower?

Or will you make him wait -- And give a fool's crown,

a kiss, to the porch's tramp, and talk for hours?

It is not comely, leaving sun by moon eclipsed,

My love, to leave my light to dally blindly with those lips.

Glory to God alone.