A Sonnet Poem by Samuel Mcdonald

To thou, who art as the old oaken trunk
That firmly holds its quiv'ring boughs, in gloom,
Against the Gail; Terra, who guides her moon,
With stout sway, from being in the void sunk.
My fawnling body into Styx thou dunk;
And anneal my spirit with lifting croon;
For me, a bronzen shield, a mighty boon,
Thou wield'st ‘gaist cruel misfortune's savage plunk.
My love shan't be snuffed, like Eternal Flame;
Its zeal, like the sunrise, can't be chained down.
From Love's Hearth, silv'ry streaks, with stellar aim,
Do go to mingle, and the Heavens crown.
Dear memories, countless as drops of rain,
Shall't not in Lethe's numbing waters drown.