The Pilgrim's Maskil

Over the distant horizon where unsullied love Quietly calls in her yet unconsummated calm, There daft hate has not sown its haughty gall; There void's vitriols make no sweet airs numb. In great ecstatic joys do merry lips there rejoice, And forever sing happy songs themed on hope; Where lie purest lands spiteful feet never tread, Past farthest skies where jollities sing full voice. We've there each saint in finer whitened gowns, Under bliss-filled wings free from earth's frowns; Where witch-hunting enmities oppress no more, Where our mudslinging detractors wage no war. Sublime carols heavy with unceasing peace Pipe rest to every battle-battered soul there; Where brotherhood keeps all on their knees, Where no tempting sights weak victims dare. There's a sprawling refuge all green and pure, In a most pristine state past our highest azure.