To Baucus and Philemon

                                            

Whom toward the Heavens' look
or beyond the oceans peer, could

Reason and argument doubt,
the marvelous work n wonder
of a Loving Heavenly Fathers' plan?
With itching ear, and blinded eye,
by pride and by an illusion,
hollow jangling rings,
luring clouds to shroud the sky.
On, vanities' ireful words,
the rage within her boasts; how
the whetted sickle honed doth sting,
as sorrows and tears unfold.
Nearby, a chorus of melodies chime,
that awakes me from sleep.
Above, the fullness of the Moon,
that bides the eventide,
sings with  dawnings light
as mornings’ dew lifts flowering
blossoms upon the Linden and the O