Tomicki, if they'd not chide him <br />Who lights a praising lamp to Light <br />Praised, sacred and boundless Itself, <br />Whence every light's glow doth stem, <br /> <br />Then by none I'd be called fickle <br />If I sing virtue's beauty in thee <br />That's enlightened all. But learned, <br />Water I've sipped little, so daren't try. <br /> <br />Take well my wish, God marks it so; <br />Should the Muses tho with my lack comply, <br />Thy pluck, firm'ty, wisdom and manners, <br />Which thy state (high itself) far excede, <br /> <br />Shall for my verse sport unending <br />Be. What? True glory they'd be!<br /><br />Mikolaj Sep Szarzynski<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-vi-4/
