Sound clear, finely-chiseled sonnets,
You, the children of quiet thoughts!
True Freedom listens to the dictates:
He submits the law, that you laws consider:
In one’s own hand free discourse to set
Is noble Art, no border shall her disempower:
Limit must reason and invention sharpen;
To mastery, who masters himself, compelled:-
The spirit drawn back to modest boundaries,
Appears as forceful as the poplar setting shoots,
Drilling into earth and blue heavens:
A sea of love poured out in drops,
Softly, one by one — see there my grand attempts…
Sonnets, sound! You set in verse such delight. —
(Jacques Perk)
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