POETRY: Sonnet III—Envy, My Youthful Error

Sonnet III—Envy, My Youthful Error

©Mimi Wolske
All Rights Reserved

Listen you gods of ill-scattered verse this

Sound of all those sighs which my heart I fed

When envy was my youthful error led

By one unlike this sole lover’s distress

Grief uttered when reason did abound

Throughout my poems, my hopes, vain griefs bred;

If ever true love’s force over you shed,

Then let your pity be with pardon crowned.

Being oft’ aroused I see how a crowd

Might, unknowingly, believe that I jest,

When I confess my folly I allowed

And my vanity became fruit of shame

Your knowledge on me has strongly impressed

That worldly pleasure is but a fleeting dream