Hey the Broker of Bright Splendor,
Hope entire only follows Thee.
Lord, by Your form alone the world is awed;
There are no words for measuring quality.
Your own self, You have strewn;
But at heart's core, You have accepted room.
What occurs not, You've made that happen too;
Composing homes with hues aplenty.
Only You are the nectar in a flower's breast;
And You are the cordial moon on a blue firmament.
Oh, I am worn out from just calling ever;
At the psyche only, hear my smiles and tears.
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When You reside at psyche, why must I keep crying out to Thee?
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