Summer's Sonnet

Let winter’s face not fall the brightness           
in thine sunshine of summer's shade,    
        
There is a bolt I treasure still              
with sweetness in vials of memory,           
             
Where counts not shame for penance paid              
in debt to all, and all eternities instill me,           
             
My heart worn well and ten times more,              
hence, let it be known it makes me happy,              
             
You knew the gladness life be, my lord;          
the absence ― leave the sums, and set me free.