O God! to Whom I blindly seek Thy face
And search for vaguest token of Thy love,
So thereby hoping Thy mercy to prove
If I should merit faintest shred of grace.
Forgive these cries by one with wild despair
Issued from broken heart and shattered dreams,
Heightened by terror of demonic schemes,
Whose hopes lie dashed by each unanswered prayer.
Yet help me, Thou, from such lies to refrain,
And hear Thy voice again in soughing pine.
Thus sweet release in sharpest thorn of pain,
Give beauty for ashes in love divine.
O Thou hast gently taken her last breath,
Along with Thee triumphant over death.
~Hilda~
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 12:10 AM UTC
O God! to Whom I blindly seek Thy face
And search for vaguest token of Thy love,
So thereby hoping Thy mercy to prove
If I should merit faintest shred of grace.
Forgive these cries by one with wild despair
Issued from broken heart and shattered dreams,
Heightened by terror of demonic schemes,
Whose hopes lie dashed by each unanswered prayer.
Yet help me, Thou, from such lies to refrain,
And hear Thy voice again in soughing pine.
Thus sweet release in sharpest thorn of pain,
Give beauty for ashes in love divine.
O Thou hast gently taken her last breath,
Along with Thee triumphant over death.
~Hilda~
Petrarchan (Italian) Sonnet type.
Written July 18, 2014
© Hilda July 27, 2014
12:10am
