Classic Poem

Oh , I will reach Thee yet! The pitiful plea
That unregarded rends the unheeding air
Shall yet have power enough to reach Thee there,
There where Thou sittest, throned in majesty,
And draw Thee down, O great one, even Thee,
The judge supreme, down to Thy prisoner's feet: —
My dung-hill here shall be the judgment seat
Where Thou shalt render Thy accounts to me —
And I shall see Thee and hear Thee, face to face,
And this my weakness shall so master Thee,
That Thou, the Lord of heaven, shalt take my place;
And here in dust and ashes shalt Thou be
Greater, and more Thyself, and more divine
Than there on that almighty throne of Thine.