Songs of Harmony/Songs of Discord

[Sentimental Gentleman]

I wrote this piece today. I think it still needs work. It's essentially a Petrarchan sonnet, but with an octet rhyming "abbacddc" instead of the more familiar "abbaabba"


What fools call wisdom stalks a scholar’s cell
A dour shadow, skull half-lichenate
The cuthroat of an hour’s joyful gait
To reap a purse of knowledge-gilded Hell
His Babel greets the eagle's lonely climes
As slaves vainglorious lay the stones that hide
Themselves within the sky’s old-vaunted tide
And dream madness a science sore divine

She trots below, where midnight fears to tread
Her wheaten sunlight banishes all blood
Unwarmed by love; her labor knows no time
And shall I, stone of sin, never break bread
With she who is my passion and my rood
When, smiling, she holds out a hoof to mine?

Update: Fixed up the line that was bothering me the most.