Sonnet Xxxi:

XXXI 'And miss the way to heaven!' My closing word Is a reproachful echo in my ear; And filled with trouble and an anxious fear Lest in thy faultless presence should be heard My shameful figure of the stooping bird-- Through my repentance, let the truth shine clear. Can I miss that to which I draw so near? Rather before my prayerful breath had stirred God's ready ear, my gratitude had gained A surer answer by a shorter way Than souls oft travel in this masking clay; For ere the fervor of my spirit waned, That heaven to which I only meant to pray, Through thee, fair vision, was a heaven attained.