Diana dreamt of such a grove
As this one God’s given me.
For all that goddess knew of love
She could never really see
All the power and affection
Of the one true God of love
And how his hedge of protection
Is much greater than her grove
Where Venus took her worshippers
And where Bachus poured his wine
Where nymphs and dryads sang with birds
Was a place not as divine
As any place where my God lives
And where his sweet Spirit stirs.
And newer wine is what he gives
With the sweetness of his words.
For holy above all the Gods
Is the One whom I give praise
To Him all laurels and all laud
I extend with my hands raised.
Far brighter than Apollo’s shine
Is the visage of his face.
For holy is this God of mine
Who makes other gods seem base.
5-3-2000
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