Grandeur and Grace

GRANDEUR AND GRACE

With Haider's might and brawn
I feel myself content
I wish you joy of wit,
To you by Plato lent.

This is the charm and grace
In view of mine and sight
That heavens too prostrate
Before much main and might

Without great majestic height
Grace is not of much use:
Song is mere puff of breath,
If rapture can't produce.

I would not go to hell
Whose fire is dull and tame
To suffer for my sins
I like a rearing flame.