Sonnet of the Mourning Scholar

Clyde

Once I dreamed a lovely dream:
Beautiful, made so perfectly.
No man ruled oŐer others, it seemed,
And peace sang out with harmony.

The flaws of man had disappeared,
Too good! Could paradise be nigh?
This, my beingŐs essence could have neared
While the beingŐs vessel died.

Then I awoke in my bachelorŐs flat,
A blade of sadness slicing my heart;
Once long ago the world had been like thatÉ
But manŐs search for perfection broke it apart.

Men refuse to realize that perfection is not controlled by their grasp;
So when they try to feed the dove, flesh shall be pierced by fang of asp.