Poems (Truesdell)/Awake, awake, my gentle Muse
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AWAKE, AWAKE, MY GENTLE MUSE.
Awake, awake, my gentle Muse!
Awake, awake and sing;
The purest tributes of thy verse,
I call on thee to bring.
I ask not gems, nor jewels rare,
Not diamonds flashing bright:
A purer, holier gift be mine—
The mind's calm, steadfast light.
Awake, awake and sing;
The purest tributes of thy verse,
I call on thee to bring.
I ask not gems, nor jewels rare,
Not diamonds flashing bright:
A purer, holier gift be mine—
The mind's calm, steadfast light.
Lord, I seek to have each thought
Supremely stayed on Thee;
Surely Thou canst the gift impart,
And make my spirit free—
Free from the vain alluring things,
That bow the spirit down:
Strange! that such trifles please the sight,
Heir of a glorious crown!
Supremely stayed on Thee;
Surely Thou canst the gift impart,
And make my spirit free—
Free from the vain alluring things,
That bow the spirit down:
Strange! that such trifles please the sight,
Heir of a glorious crown!