Sire of Epic & Empire
Published on December 16, 2018
Sire of Epic & Empire
A Sonnet
O Thou, Poet-Supreme, scripter of me
What foul mood was caught by Thee,
Thou didst write me as pauper and austere?
O Thou who art Sire of epic and empire!
Heavens are Thine and wide worlds of dominion
Where light and joy, knowledge and power dance in abandon!
O why then saddle me with stammer for speech
Or have my bones groan for a thing to reach!
O Master, I cherish Thee as a slave his Lord
Of all Thou doest I am blindly proud.
O Unknowable, O Muse, O Supreme Sun
How long must I be the blighted one?
Ungate Thy transmuting oceans of light above
Flood our gulfs and cells with Thee, O Beloved Love.