Sonnet XII: Visions

…No mere illusion could be ever still
But substance make it soar when once begin
Its dances and its songs as once were thine;
Transfixing, once, existence all therein
That once revolved about my wish to kill,

And to protect; and otherwise confine
Such evil as would do thee harm, or sin
Against thee in this fragile world of mine–
To fight ’til all were vanquished by my will.

Thy safety then to mine own safely bound,
No more such evil thee should ever bind–
So not a moment more thy pleasure blind.
Ne’er once thy dance, nor song, nor sweetest sound,
When all is well, might fail to ever thrill.

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all: