Quite a piece, @d-pend. I read these lines between deprecating and worshipping. In every stanza, there's a strong imagery which runs into the following(s); for example, I could anticipate the pounding of the golden gavel at some point thereafter –it did not come, but I kept the feeling all the way through anyway.
Indeed, what you describe is a multitude in one muse. Fascinating poetic power.
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