Classic Poem

“But lest thou deem my tale less true,
in Apocalypse is writ a verse:—
‘I saw,’ saith John, ‘where stood the Lamb—
on the Mount of Zion, thriven and strong,
and with Him maidens a hundred thousand,
and four and forty-thousand more:
on all their foreheads writ I found
the Lamb's own name, His Father's eke
A voice from beaven beard I then
like many floods roar, a-rushing on;
as thunder hurtles in lowring skies
that sound, I trow, was none the less.