Classic Poem

Lo our mighty cheiftains come
clothed in glory infinite
with the sound of harp & drum
loud pealing their might

on they march in splendour
to their adamantine thrones
& there they sit in grandeur
while our high melodious tones

are peeling to the arched roof
making the palace ring
making the mountains echo
& the desert wild to sing

O may they reign eternally
in the glory of their might
may their armies be victorious
while they like stars of light

illuminate the darksome world
their sceptres might
changes the present state
into a glorious day