Sonnet: A Poet’s Greatness

Most lucky, thou art, O Bard and winged Muse! After thy death, thy soul remains on earth; Thy God-giv’n gift- how well thou put to use! And through thy passionate poems gave mirth. Maybe, thy stay short wasn’t comfortable, And thy heart got plunged in sadness so oft; Maybe, thou had to live in a stable! In God’s heart, thou shall have a corner soft. What truths thou writ in poems beauteous! What good advice thou rendered to live life! How well thou showed men ought to be righteous! How soothing balm, thou bestowed men in strife! O great soul, thine place in Heaven’s assured, O fisherman of souls, thy rest tho’ measured.