Shall you know your own value,
You will fly up to the sky
And never descend again.
Know your own worth from your birth.
Mount up now on eagle’s wings,
Sail thru brightest blue and sing,
And bring glory to your soul.
Note: There are seven lines, balanced by three before and after the central one, with seven syllables in each line. There are other definitions and versions of “sevenfold” poetry, but so far as I know (now) this is my own variation.