PROFESSOR ABRAHAM SONNETS'DIARY.SONNET-126

This arsenal and foundry cannot its stokehold deny,hath not left metalurgy sallow,where prescriptions for metal casting are dutifully kept,The Old lady is the haven which struck didstitch, These doses the hoot i care now in season is the dose notdenied,And being stonecold stoop,guerdoned with silvermoon,My Old Lady and my glides as stonework,beyond shuddering stomp of stormy clouds,a castrate at straitjacketed ends from a stouthearted streak likea streak of lightning,silvermoon gilded,For to her,i have sworn fairest to defend,which art stubborn as a mule and rich as a croesus,Unthrifty vision,why dost thouthy tentacles nuanced,upon thy selfwanton slide?Motherwit inquisitorialgnash,spews nothingness butdoth reproach,And being frank she minces to carteblanche its illusion,Then sumptious knight of old,why dost thou alarm?Thrifty vision,why dost thounot populous acclaim,so vast a horde of hordes,yet derails mammoth appeals?For having solitude inthyself bears,than of thyself repugnant throng dost frivolousdeceive