My first sonnet.

In patience seeks my gaze upon the night
Imbibing all the treasures of its sky,
Waxing fruitful in the secret hope,
That God would thence a piece of heaven pry.
So like the cherished heart both chaste and true
In rarest kindness wherewith being crowned
Fit thus to make God's lofty goodness shew
And in Christ's work His holy will abound.
How less compares the fallen star of night,
To the bless├ęd gem that God has given!
Although its burning sets the sky alight,
Yet then it to a coldly death is driven.
Like 't not to the spirit that shall aye endure--
Bright, gladsome, dazzling, exquisite and pure!