Constant Still

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Constant Still

Sonnet — An Invocation to The Master #45

An evil eye hath set its gaze upon our dalliance,
Like an old crone hunchbacked by time
And burnt up heart stewing in its vehemence
Hath poured on us its malevolence grim.

I bear Thy signs, the cherished token of our bond,
Borne like a proud bumpkin upon my breast,
In every thought clinging to Thy name’s sound
And holding myself for this alone blest.

But Thou art besieged in Thy cosmic rounds,
The upkeep worlds and future Thy sole care,
My voice in the tumult and din every drowns,
My petitions like an unloved rose doth wither.

Oh wilt Thou remember and renew Thy will,
For my ardour for Thee is constant still.