Vouchsafe

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Vouchsafe

Sonnet — An Invocation to The Master #180

How ruefully the dusk bids me goodbye 
Leaving teary stains of a reddish hue,
A vast canvas for its lament is the sky,
And clouds like palettes with every woe.

The moon distraught with grief doth hide
Her once splendid face behind the clouds,
For with sure hope once she had waxed
Yet now she mirrors me and slowly wanes.

All nature is garbed in a grey melancholy 
Shedding a steady rain of helpless tears,
It seems all earth has joined in sympathy 
With me and all the trail of issueless years.

And Thou who watchest me divinely unmoved,
Who else must vouchsafe my cause to be sound?