Classic Poem

O all-power, sweet singing lyre,
In my lonely self hath found complete
Content and view of thy vast,
Graceful, unfelt, untold beauty.
From my seat I see chasms
Of spacious, breathing forests
And Heaven's ocean wide,
Of sinking quality, as clouds that
Force beneath their shadows' creation.
Seems as if life's limit sorrows
After death. Who shall inherit
Its eternal grandeur and breathe
Eternity's seat? O Lord, thy
Promise of immortality is as thy everlasting growth.