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All English Sonnets

HURDLE

I followed not the great mysterious power,
By which the stars are made, heavens driven,
But every sleeping, waking, passing hour,
To understand this secret, I had striven.

The signet of eternity, so often,
Had made me look for Him in JeHOVah,
My trivial days were lost, and forgotten,
Were lovely songs of Waris, Bulla Shah,

Which I had planned to read, at my leisure,
But leisure was not there in that quest,
And jostling restlessly, in my breast-
My songs were sans attention and my pleasure.

In such a state of mind, I did write,
To feel His presence, an’ His rightness sight.

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