What Angels hold an heart in thee,
That keeps me writing ever to eternity?
How far the gentle breath I feel is near,
That I would welcome thee as though thou
mightst come here?
What holy of the most hallowed might
Send me to put these words in light,
That all fellow mortals might see,
The light I give thy image and the breath
though giv'st to me?
Do not be abashed by my tone,
There is no honor but yours and yours alone.
If there might be some meager crumb that I might eke,
From that grand inspiration that I seek,
It is those few words in every day,
That I see written on the page as thou wouldst say.
