Kynanian Sonnets
Kynanian Sonnets I It grieves me much to n't meet the Blessed One, And every day and every night I groan. E’en promised from a Father to a Son, The waiting fills my lungs with lonesome moans. I curl into a wounded fetus not of th’ womb And those who hate me scoff at my distress; They want True Love to come to naught but ruin, For th’ envious inflict unjust duress. But there is not a boon more bless’d than Love And those who spite its adamant pursuit Dost bring'st but wrath and shame from up above, That all their great attempts are proven moot. A pair of Souls alike in faculty Together come t’ unanimously be. II No better dream and hope is there than this: A virtuous and loyal companion; For such a one doth bring e’erlasting bliss, And in their presence nothing comes undone. To traverse life alone, a curse imposed Upon a King and Queen by wicked men Who lust for pow’r and wealth with hearts all closed, For fear of being crushed by th’ heirs’ wet pe...