Thy Boons

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Thy Boons

Sonnet — An Invocation to The Master #38

Of all the missions to me assigned
This Thou choosest the most unsublime,
To dullest moments to be thus chained
And lashed by issueless hours of time.

My waking watch of events that go by,
That account not my insistent intent,
Like the sun sailing on an ocean-sky
Oblivious to the rising poignant lament.

Oh why must it be, this unspoken feud,
What scores must I to Thee yet settle,
What will, what labour to Thee not spared
By me who am but Thy portion little.

Of all Thy boons this I must refuse,
Of all Thy treasury Thou givest me inconsequence.