Here and Hereafter
Sonnet
Published on March 31, 2021
Here and Hereafter
Sonnet
A hundred times hundred, nay a thousand thousand
Lives like this shall yet not recompense
A single hour of Thy long excruciating enterprise;
Behind a deep shame hides my every petty demand.
O Thou, of immeasurable care and inscrutable love,
How art Thou of all our littleness accommodating,
What need Thine of us who lack all understanding,
What hope ours of Thee to worthy prove?
A mote of dust strewn by the gusts of Time
Are our lives; yet to us Thou doth stoop
Bending Thy ocean infinity to our single drop,
O Marvel, no hope to repay our debts to Thee.
An impassioned servility is all we can offer
To Thee who art our all in here and hereafter.