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!
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