"Sonnet One", 1970 by Michael F. Nyiri

Shalt I, who live the lowest form of life,
Become a soul that's fit to have a wife?
Or tarnish love by daring to feel love?
To me, for I'm more like the hawk than dove.
I'd rather warp than be a Saint above.
Oh Lord, this question rips the sense from me.
I'm not the kind, the hev'nly host to see,
Oh Lord, worthy I'm not to be with thee.
Yet, now I clearly see where I've gone wrong.
I've found the love to help me sing this song.
I've been a fool to squander earthly whim,
When I should cry and learn to worship Him.
My life, though full, has been so empty still,
But now I find life better through His will.