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.
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