 | Sonnets to the Universe |  |
6
A Nightmare
Sometimes we dream of you as throned on high—A monarch crowned with majesty and might,—
Holding your court in halls above the sky,
Irradiating glory, power and might:—
A stern vindictive judge, whose lightest breath
Makes or unmakes; who saves a chosen few,
And with a frown dooms all but those to death,
The second death, the sinner's dreadful due.
And in our dream we see before your throne
Ourselves, a suppliant throng, on bended knee,
Praying for grace, each for himself alone.—
Or hymning praises everlastingly.
Life of all lives, forgive us who blaspheme
Your all-embracing love with such a dream.
| Sonnets to the Universe | |