I Sometimes Hunger.

I sometimes hunger for the impossible,

Like the moth doth for the star,

I sometimes yearn for the memory,

Like a migrant for his land afar.

I likewise dream of the pleasure,

Tho’ I confess ‘tis mostly in vain,

For there’s not a God in Christendom,

Could conjure herself, when I speak her name.

Tho’ in my vanity seeking,

To re-claim that pleasure that was mine,

I see no fault needs forgiving,

In visiting such a moment in time.

For let us admit if nothing,

There are moments once lost to one self,

Though be no fault of our choosing,

Begs no redeeming, what was a delightful indulge.