A lyrist was upon the night brought forth,
Like a brilliant star up above;
And Poetry did thru his brain course
Racing its way to the central hub.

He did see thru good, and too thru ill,
He did perceive thru his lone soul
The curiosity of the eternal will
Which is still an open scroll,

And with tired feet he threaded
The arcane walks of acclaim:
The arrows of his ideas were headed
And with due haste they did flame,

Smoothest lyrics came from his tongue,
And of so passionate a flight,
From one end to the other they'd sung,
Filling all with glorious light.

But the wellspring did dry like bone
Leaving the world with sweepings
For to digest as literature and tome,
Until from the learnéd came weepings;

And floating melodies, the winds bore
Them skyward till they'd ignite;
Then, like Beauty so pure came forth yet another celestial light.