Acquit

My ardor not commit to stand beside creation taking wit it is this lost December I am fit ~ The thought be temple thine, thee not awry ~ to love God in engender so ~ be ~ it! Be then as I the member of truth's fret that man does so encumber with beget no promise lasting, numbered, no incept! It is God's will assunder that does quip with all else, solaced wonder solaced fit! While in abridgment's blunder I remit God, praise me not, thy ember soul's encrypt! The sin of man's trust lumber without script To join the two ~ to launder love's true grit ~ Would barely touch, absconder life's acquit!