(sonnet # CCXXXII)
My heart says that you love me: is it so?
I want to cry; to think you do quite stirs
Me. O 'tis wonderful! And yet avers
I am not good enough to have such. No.
Not worthy to be loved as all else know:
Too light and careless, selfish it occurs;
My faults quite many, I guess harbingers
Of lonely mis'ry or of some such woe.
To love, or be loved, truly is a prize
That sinful mankind us'lly cannot claim
Deserving of. And God's true love our eyes
Can barely see, as blind too oft, misname
Far less for love. And thus we feed on lies?
O that He'd call me His, to wear His name.
25Sep11