Valentine's Sophia

Thinking of her grace I often do,
And of the time that we were through.
But the past has yet to appear,
With solemn thanks to hear.

Blest be her name, and all about;
That her doctrine has no shout,
But that she teaches with her actions,
And burdens none with any factions.

My fairest ghost, or spirit rather,
In a land afar, but friends she gathers.
Though not time enough for all,
Seeks her God lest she should fall.

Bemused I sit, but pleased in heart,
That she would suit me to take some part.
And when she left that day at noon,
Foregone me then to come to me soon.

Nothing I expect, as honest appraise,
That I might go on alone for days,
And months, we may surely see,
Whether this love should truly be.

By Evan Gunn Wilson

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