Who can conceive of such things

Who can conceive of a fruit
That’s different and better with every taste
Who can conceive of an angel
With six hundred wings laying vision to waste
Who can conceive of a horseman
Who gallops for five hundred years all a trice
Yet cannot escape the shade of a tree
In the Garden we call Paradise
Who can conceive of such vastness
And levels of magnitude
No poet may dare but a prophet who speaks
From what is revealed to him could

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