~~we longed to serve God’s golden verse.
Each sage of ages gone brought every phase and shape of moon and carried lamps of psalm,
~~yet the heart of earth and mountain peaks speak of His godlier, gloried sun.
When one who loves God begins to solve the premise of empires and the danger of his own garden, the hostile and holiest birthplace of faith,
~~then, lighted by delight, he orients the stonier man.
In Iran, on that pleated, petaled sore rose, did rain descend:
~~let the one who ponders this respond.
1 comment:
August Epic!
Post a Comment