Be it said that the Saints who Persevere
Would by Virtues help our Sour Minds Change
Then Surpass most Laws deny Love sincere
Yet Shred all Passions in Variance and Range
Be it Known if such Life we Seek to Own
Pamper those Millions hope then disappoint
Still that Love's Real Sake set their Claws a-blown
Then Accept your Temple to Re-anoint
Virtue's Bless our Smiles we would much Confer
That past Nineteen we would Focus your Sport
And let our Governess maintain your Prefer
Then Scold the Soiled Janitor's Report.
I sense by such Love your Trained Skills excel
Such be your Nature which you have done Well.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem