IX: Jest

I sit to write these damnable sonnèts,

I watch my lamp of lava magmatize,

I partly hope some rapturous comèts

fall down upon my head and atomize.

It's not that I am tired of this code,

the time that I'm about it I can thrive.

But when the charmèd fount gives not a node,

tis then my thoughts of plights will go connive.

Is that where all this silliness is come,

th…