Holy Sonnet 1

Shall I compare thy Grace to a summer's day?
'Tis far too gentle and above all infinite!
Like passion, the sun in scortching fury stays,
And in due time the flow'ring bud dost wilt.

Too quick to bloom and soon to wither dead,
Creation like the blossom fades away!
See man and beast arise, then in the dust make bed;
Such is the fate of all under death's foray!

Nay Lord, thy tender Mercy is like spring dew
That clings to men's hearts to soothe unrelenting!
Like quiet rains which seep the soil through
And give new life with every drop dampening!

So long as Nature's symphony reprises,
Thy Grace cools earth with misty sunrises.

~

"Hearken ye heavens, and I will speak:
And let the earth hear the words of my mouth.
My doctrine shall drop as the rain,
And my speech shall still as the dew,
As the shower upon the herbs,
And as the great rain upon the grass."
--Deuteronomy 32:1-2