Poem By Maurice Harris
You, you-wonderful, glorious, amazing-you;
What is a humble appreciant such as I, to do-
In the face of this ardor, so amazingly true?
I beam now e'er, clothed in this perpetual endue-
Now recast in a beautiful, resplendent light-
Which shall sustain me, until I am within thine sight!
Naught exists for this, as proper recompense,
But for the honor of your consort's pleasance;
Earthly jollity is but a pallid dream,
Whence weighed next, my soul's redeem;
A glory as this is not extant, it would seem-
But for the verity of the simper, I do now beam!
Obligation owed to Thee, for this precious gift:
The Empyreal presence, causal mine soul's uplift!