Iambic.dev

Oh, opulent, kind giver of rich hours, How have I made God a throne.

And you remember,How towards the wide heaven of hope.

I asked the mighty gods have seen it fit To be a little universe.

Gaze, gaze, I say, swing on— Hurry up!

When it flaunts it in the torrid azure under the great evenings extend to heaven alone.

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