A Shakespearean Sonnet

The moon doth appear in that dark horizon And glistens with a beam of drifting light. Let thy passions stroll with the companion Of forlorn hovering clouds in moonlit night. O Nature, sing not thy lonesome songs again For I doth find a friend in each of thy cells. I rejoice in thy touch even in wrecked pain And my life hath mend its stuttering wheels. Dazed weariness once mocked my forlorn being Ere it came unto thy shelter, Mother Nature! Whilst my morale dips in bosom, come and sing A song of Love that warmeth every creature. Nature hath a bliss that drenches our dry mind, Pouring tender showers amidst the roughest wind. (This is the first time I have tried to write a Sonnet, so, please pardon my shortcomings)