Classic Poem

Lovely companions of The Flaming God
Thine help, Divine Nine, I hereby now invoke.
Show your fair aid by your sweet gracious nod.
Rythmic Euterpe, mistress o' the stroke
Which rules o'er the melting Lyre's liquid lay,
Guide Thou my fingers, see their touch is light,
Give Thou my fingers as hereon I play
Notes now as sunbeam gay — now sad's moonlight.
Last, Clio, Guardian, 'o the Great Mystery
Truth, Guide for the Present, Priestess of the Past
Whose rays light to-day — Clio o' History!
Hold Thou my pen. Then in Truth's hand 'tis fast.
Thus call I to my aid The Days of Old
Thus call I clear! Sans fear. Thus call I bold.