sonnet with no name

So I wrote this. (Trust me, it was harder than it looks. If Poe didn't like the format, why would I?)

I wrote it in the form of a Shakespearean sonnet, which is a fancy way of saying it's fourteen lines of iambic pentameter, rhyming ababcdcdefefgg and following a specific plot development pattern, heightening the tension in the ninth line and climaxing in the couplet.
Or maybe that was the fancy way..

Anyway, this is it.

In all the world is beauty great displayed;
The works of God which man cannot compare.
The mountains, oceans, forests all arrayed
With gem and stone and treasure all so fair.
To call this earth a trove would be unfit,
To call it richest wealth would be unjust;
Yet all these found on earth will surely flit,
And gold and silver both will fade to rust.
But is there found a gift as good as Grace,
Whose Giver shall rejoice to give it free?
What man shall then decline it to His face?
Not I, for surely was its purpose me!
___No greedy, fleeting riches for my store,
___His Grace then be my treasure evermore.

Okay, that's all. As always, tell me what ye think before we go to press, eh?
Loves,
~Jacob