Here lieth pleasure’s open’d form;  
thy splendor wholesomely beget,  
whence parting clouds dispel my storm  
‘n light divine shouldst warm me, yet.

Commendeth thee, my soul implores;  
thru many’s work doth One bestow.  
Upon the endless ocean’s shores  
to watch the swell recede and grow.

For whosoever wisps about  
on worldly winds, in currents grip  
-whose faith within shall shine, devout-  
surrender’d to unending trip.

No happenstance shall coincide  
alack of reason, stretching wide.  
Wherewith mine heart is anchor’d, stilled,  
inset to breadth, as I, fulfilled.