Prayer

I stood upon the threshold; musical
Reverberant footsteps ghostlike came and went,
And my lips trembled as magnificent
Before me rose a vision of that hall
Whereof great Milton is the mighty wall,
Shakespeare the dome with incense redolent,
Each latter singer precious ornament,
And Holy Writ the groundwork, bearing all.
"Lord," sobbed I, "take Thy splendid gift of youth
For the one boon that I have craved so long:
Mould Thou my stammering accents and uncouth,
With awful music raise and make me strong;
A living martyr of Thy vocal truth,
A resonant column in the House of Song!"