The Song of Ages

There is a calling which pleads to me, it need not be meddlesome, whining, to be free; it need not be discouraged, by the rattles 'neath blind ambition The song of ages, none too antiquated gives way cutting to the bone, exalted on the thrones of melody, meter, tense and tone whisper, chime, and beat to coda, we shall meet--- the ends of another day Savagely we break the din and begin again, little steps so leaping; giant tethers so sleeping 'til melody leaves said gloom, the ages speak again; purging all sin, toil and lifeless things: we must dance, we must sing, life's timeless tune