While Wordsworth worshipped Nature; Keats, Beauty;
To them, each was his art, life, religion;
With senses exalted, did their duty;
Imagination adding perfection.
When God made Nature, He gave it beauty;
All things He made with purpose, perfectly;
He made with man a covenant-treaty;
To enjoy it with his ability.
And Man invented words and syllables;
He used them to describe Mother Nature;
The latter found use in all Parables;
Revealing God's love for man in rapture.
Beauty's zenith of words is Poetry;
Divine love takes us to Eternity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem