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When human hearts allow this feeling’s flow,
The potency shall strike like an arrow.
What alloweth skies to shine as ocean’s blue,
And calls to clarity the sheet of Earth,
To scintillate with ardor’s arm’ry dew?
This ferver, perfervid in fuzz, effervesces
To sooth the soul in sooth, – a saying’s hymn
That hums in rhythm of all it so blesses
In realms of light refusing strong to dim.
The pleasant letters falter not in spell
Of a melodious perfume so birthed
To pass the Heaven of abundance lovely cells.
What inks the sonnet’s power but the red
That lulls to sleep the lovers in their bed?