How sweet is this dear life,
And wholly truly good,
To apprehend the grace so rife,
Endowed as all things could,
Bare glory weighty beyond might,
And firm the maker's sight,
Indeed is this dear life,
Quite wholly truly good.

Through the slow fire,
Hours on the clock,
Beneath the ancient spires,
To the novel many flock,
We sit in some sense watched,
Beyond this present time when rushed -
Thoughts test, and show preparation best.

An asymmetric day,
Upon a date symmetric,
5 meters in a length of road,
A quiet place near somewhere loud,

Away! Away to the city on a hill,
Away to find peace and praise,
Amidst a boiling city filled with sound,
To light in the dark place.

Stormy day,
Solemn on the raining wings of mourning clouds,
They chase the wind like rolling flood dragons,
Blotting out the sky with their sublime scales,
And a small being walks,
Awestruck underneath the mourning clouds,
That's a pretty sober spectacle, Dad.