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Sonnet: A Poet’s Doubt

How long O God, do I play on this lute?
How long will my numbers keep coming on?
Will they lose their charm? Will they become mute?
How long Poesy’s attire do I don?

I pray Thine inspiration does not cease,
Lest my creation become a dead-piece,
And I cannot do it with mighty glee;
Give me Thine nectar: I am Thine one bee.

And when my hive gets blown away by wind,
Forsake me not; where can I go to live?
And if I remain in a state most sinned,
Redeemer God, will Thou not me forgive?

I am Thine lute and I am thine one bee!
Give me Thine music and nectar freely.

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