Such whispers

Such fruits Flourishing

In the suit Of pure white

When we find Our heaven

Let it never fail To resin

Of angelic Tales

And may your hearts

Desires Always pull

The art of what you Have sewn

Your abilities Tease perfection

And you meet with God

To see your reflection

Is but a Ruling

Of his favor Your beauty

Is marked And savored

As your beginning Of freedom

And this Is your account

Of pleasure Reaping

What you were born to