Classic Poem

I

Grant me the great and solemn breath withdrawn,
The glow that with eternal youth is gifted,
Wherewith the wings of childhood once uplifted
Soared in the sacrificial smoke of dawn.

I would not live but in thy breath divine.
Enclose me wholly in thy sanctuary!
One crumb from thy rich table let me carry!
Thus from dark caves rises this prayer of mine.

The Angel spoke: These stormy cries I hear
Speak strange desires among themselves divided.
The granting of such precious gifts unguided
Is not my office, and my grace austere

By zeal or force cannot commanded be!
But I in prayer my arms beside him bending,
Heard all my wakeful yearning's voice ascending:
I loose thee not except thou blessest me.

II

In my life, too, were angry days and evil
And music that rang dissonant and shrill.
Now a kind spirit holds the balance level
And all my deeds are at an Angel's will.

Though often still my faltering soul be broken
Even unto sobbing in a joyless world,
Swift at the anchorage the words are spoken:
To fairer shorelands be thy sails unfurled.

And when storm-driven upon farthest ocean
'Twixt death and madness I am all unmanned,
He grasps the rudder and the wild commotion
Of powers tumultuous hearkens his command.

The embattled waves yield them unto his chiding.
From the pure azure clouds and shadows cease.
On foamless waters soon thy feet are gliding
To blessed islands and a port of peace.