The Griot’s Hymn

Then learn to see yourself more
Than what you really were before.

Think yourself beyond measure
That your longings no earthling can figure.

Your thought need not be in line
With the fool’s, when you compose your fairer blaze
And where your art fits
Haply gird your caressed wits
To tutor all that in you yourself need refine
And mark not yourself beyond blessed grace.

I know, I know, my love, how it shall be,
For seeing not the worthy wrongs in me.

As you will, what you will is your lot,
But still in all your wills, you’re greater than your thought.