Classic Poem

O thou, dear Glory of the Skies,
And Queen of our new Paradise,
Who ever wert so good to me
And art so high in dignity,
That it transcendeth human heart
So to conceive thee as thou art,
Thus far my bark has safe been steered—
But now, the risk I long have feared
Approaching, much I feel dismay,
Lest I should aught unworthy say
Of that sweet Majesty so great,
Which men and angels venerate.
Ah then, true Poetess divine,
By that high canticle of thine
Whose words enchant the world, my need
Assist, nor less of those who read,
That, while beneath an outward guise
I shadow hidden verities,
They of my parable aright
May judge, nor, unobservant quite,
A lower meaning bear away
Where it a higher would convey.