Sonnet on Love: To My Brothers and My Sisters by the Blood and Water

Thy heart is not thine own: Christ’s blood was spilt
To ransom that which is most rightly His:
Dispose it not where thou alone dost wilt,
But only if thy Master also please.

Though tempted by the warmth of Passion’s flame,
Yet guard thy heart, from which thy life comes forth;
Of Love, this Passion proves to be the bane,
In thine own eye diminishing Love’s worth.

Content to rest behind thy Father’s shield
A child asleep, until He doth awake
Thy heart to truly love another, yield
Thine all to Him, Who is most fit to take.

Within the arms of thy dear Saviour rest
‘Til He awake thee—whole, and pure, and blest.