Sonnet 29: Vows to Muse

Why does my muse with me this labor task:

with my wit finite to her bounty praise?

Should she a sharper mind for this trial ask

who might her various subjects better phrase?


The fairest face does often fastest fade.

The speediest thought yet rarely stays unchanged.

All those immut’ble vows claimed love unswayed,

from what they fell for first at last are stranged.


When treach’rous time against her plots conceives,

to have her reign eternal overthrown,

and all her self-styled loyal guards deceives

who will stand last, to death defend her throne?


My humble hymns her holy seat secure

for simplest soul does speak the love most pure.


2018/3/21

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