Sonnet 77: 'There Was, Among the Very Distant Few'
There was, among the very distant few,
A rose-hip that was hid in desert place.
The few I mean, the greatest lights, and you,
You shone more bright than them, by some strange grace.
You were the rose-hip that inoculated
The spirits and the bodies of the lambs,
That cured and spared and healed, emancipated
The innocents. O, how hard are the jams
We put ourselves into by errant thoughts...
My thoughts, you cannot cure, but sure, I can!
I’ve mastered mine. BAH! You have trials enough.
You’ll find, these troubles, you are greater than.
You will survive it all, have tales to tell.
And sure, lady, I know you’ll do it well!
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