Let your voice counsel my hand
To think, to utter and write down.
You, who is the tear in my eye
As, in dread-beauty, I drown.

You, who is the end of the line
From which all my virtues spawn.
You, who is my promised land,
Please guide me now, as I strive on.

Please give me the strength to find you one day,
That I'll be worthy of gazing at your face,
That we may joyously meet and embrace.

Engulf me in your fire! Cleanse me of my sins!
That whatever's left, be poised to win
Against the Tyrant that one day you will slay.