Classic Poem

O perfect lay of deity's crested herb,
Thou art as the winsome weed afloat.
Whose power e'en fear doth warmly note
Upon the slave of mortal earth to curb,
Canst lure the ransom of essence seed,
Tame the darkest crises of deed,
Blow to mystery the unerring minstrelsy!
An oriental paradise of golden casts
Thou likest with ease, of nature blasts;
Yet innocent from thy turns, as Jove demurs,
O love, all-dying though ever-ensuing, endures
The bitter blinded spark of beauty's rock
Thou alone doth hew, as soul can mock
The prayer o'er tints through heavens, eternity's last.