Latter-Day Psalms/Apollo
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APOLLO
Poet, whose song is the universe! Creator, who hast made the world as the expression of thine art!
Thou hast taken stars and space to be thy language. Life and death is the music of thy lyre.
From the hearts of men thou strikest thy rich chords. Thou soundest a melody out of each man's life.
Thy work is terrible and fair, for thou hast no aim but beauty.
Thou hast set joy to shine forth against sorrow, as the blue sky in the midst of the storm.
Thou carest not for the happines of men. For beauty only hast thou care.
Thou wilt not make sorrow to cease, for tragedy is beautiful.
Therefore are hearts broken, even to fulfil thy harmony.
Therefore are souls degraded into the pit. Yea, even souls are destroyed.
Therefore are the nations crushed, and all the creatures of life swept away.
For thy universe is a great music; wherein is terror, darkness, and a singing melody of joy;
Wherein is strife and victory; and a haunting despair;
Wherein is love lyric, and love serene; wherein is love triumphant, and love overthrown by Time.
Thou hast struck forth thy universe in an ecstasy that it may perfectly declare thy thought.
Thou attainest the whole span of beauty, and the harmony thereof is passing sweet and wild.
Thy sign is the sun, which burns upon the sea in his uprising, and emblazons the heaven with fire;
Which kindles all dark things into splendour, and exalts a man to cry, "Hail, God, my brother!"
For all who create are thy kin; and all men create;
Both the makers of song and music, and they that speak through colour and form;
They that contrive great books, and they that live fair lives;
They that mould peoples, and they that bring up sons to be noble.
Master! Breathe into us thy spirit, that we may create beauty every day;
That our lives may be as a song, that is sung in harmony with thee.
Thou hast taken stars and space to be thy language. Life and death is the music of thy lyre.
From the hearts of men thou strikest thy rich chords. Thou soundest a melody out of each man's life.
Thy work is terrible and fair, for thou hast no aim but beauty.
Thou hast set joy to shine forth against sorrow, as the blue sky in the midst of the storm.
Thou carest not for the happines of men. For beauty only hast thou care.
Thou wilt not make sorrow to cease, for tragedy is beautiful.
Therefore are hearts broken, even to fulfil thy harmony.
Therefore are souls degraded into the pit. Yea, even souls are destroyed.
Therefore are the nations crushed, and all the creatures of life swept away.
For thy universe is a great music; wherein is terror, darkness, and a singing melody of joy;
Wherein is strife and victory; and a haunting despair;
Wherein is love lyric, and love serene; wherein is love triumphant, and love overthrown by Time.
Thou hast struck forth thy universe in an ecstasy that it may perfectly declare thy thought.
Thou attainest the whole span of beauty, and the harmony thereof is passing sweet and wild.
Thy sign is the sun, which burns upon the sea in his uprising, and emblazons the heaven with fire;
Which kindles all dark things into splendour, and exalts a man to cry, "Hail, God, my brother!"
For all who create are thy kin; and all men create;
Both the makers of song and music, and they that speak through colour and form;
They that contrive great books, and they that live fair lives;
They that mould peoples, and they that bring up sons to be noble.
Master! Breathe into us thy spirit, that we may create beauty every day;
That our lives may be as a song, that is sung in harmony with thee.