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
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