Come heavenly Muse my voice inspire Teach me to tune the poet's lyre In feeble notes that I may sing And let Religion guide the string. The works of God demand a song From spirits and the angelic throng O then let mortals also raise In humbler strains their songs of praise My soul O look around and see How many things are made for thee For thee the fields are cover'd o'er, For thee the harvest yields its store, Speech, reason, sight, and every sense Is given thee by Providence God's praise is sung by every rill O then let not my tongue be still Let morn, and noon, and shady night Hear praise to him who made the light And to his Son who willing came To save mankind from death and shame. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SICKNESS by CHARLES BUKOWSKI IN TIME OF GRIEF by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE ROMANCE OF BRUNETTES AND BLONDES by JACQUES BARON THINK-ABOUTS by DAISY MAUD BELLIS A COWBOY'S PRAYER (WRITTEN FOR MOTHER) by CHARLES BADGER CLARK JR. SONG OF THE INDIAN MOTHER by JAMES GOWDY CLARK ON THE PROSPECT OF ESTABLISHING A PANTISOCRACY IN AMERICA by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |