Spurn Not
Sonnet — An Invocation To The Master #375
Published on June 7, 2022
Spurn Not
Sonnet — An Invocation To The Master #375
Dost it suffice, the cold lifeless spires,
The pale hymn by custom worn thin,
The routine flames and piety’s habits,
All from a lesser nature routine-born?
Will it sate Thee, stale wine pressed
From hands that know no fiery wrath
Or passion to make the sun seem cold
Or a breath that never knew love’s warmth?
Will it please Thee, the worship trafficked
Like some curious trinket of a low bazaar
Or a talisman to appease a crude greed
Ornamented with a superstition’s veneer?
Oh spurn not the verities of my veneration,
It’s for Thee am awash with inspired devotion!