A Poem That Has No Title 

To my Creator I sing

Who did soothe me in my great loss;

To the Merciful and Kind

Who in my troubles gave me repose.

Thou with that pow'r of thine

Said: Live! And with life myself I found;

And shelter gave me thou

And a soul impelled to the good

Like a compass whose point to the North is bound.

Thou did make me descend

From honorable home and respectable stock,

And a homeland thou gavest me

Without limit, fair and rich

Though fortune and prudence it does lack.