Lyra Pastoralis | ||
To the Sacred Poets of America
(THE PROLOGUE TO MY FRIEND MR. HORDER'S TREASURY OF AMERICAN SACRED SONG)
As from the East unto the utmost WestGod bids the banner of His lightning shine,
The flashing signal of the Face Divine
With whose fair radiance earth may soon be blest:
So speeds the Heavenly Muse at His behest,
Across the waters; so the spreading vine
Of sacred poesy, with clusters fine,
By Western airs is welcomed and caressed.
O ye whose sires our English fields have trod,
By holy Herbert's feet made hallowed ground,
His dower of truth and beauty ye have found:
With you still buds and blossoms Aaron's rod,
Proclaiming you the poet-priests of God,
To wave the incense of His praise around.
Lyra Pastoralis | ||