What sweeter muse than the love that's ne'er attained?
For like the distant shining peak of a height that's never climbed
She glistens in unreachable perfection, unmarred by common experience, untouched by trivial loss of faith.
Hers is the limitless measure, hers is the untrodden ground,
Hers is the blossom unbruised by ordinary human compromises.
She entices and inspires, but never disappoints.
She serves as an example to motivate action, and she may give rise to the noblest aspirations in the hearts of her supplicants.
A thousand ships set sail in her name, kingdoms rise and fall,
Yet she remains unblemished by time.
Such are those who have led me on and taught me well to dream.
They have given me song and story to fill my days.
What sweeter muse then, I say, than the love that's ne'er attained?

(The above is free verse rather than sonnet. Hail Winona! Hail Saint Joan!)