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Your Majesty crowns creation,
Like a mountain rising high,
The ultimate inspiration
For created being, I.
Your depths I cannot fathom;
Your heights I cannot scale;
Your crags I cannot navigate;
I’m prone to fall and fail.
Your timelessness so glacial;
Your wonders my delight,
From the needles of the pine trees
To the lofty, rocky blight.
I would begin to climb You,
With steady step and slow,
But not to reach the pinnacle,
For I can’t yet see Your goal;
But rather to have known You,
In all that You will show,
To find that as I climb Your face
Your features I may know;
And steady, still ascending,
Throughout my final breath,
I have not conquered You, Lord,
But conquered, I may rest.
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