OH! God of mercy, let my lyre Speak with energetic fire; And teach my infant tongue to raise, The grateful animated lays. While musing at thy hallowed shrine, I listen to thy word divine; I bless the page of genuine truth; Oh! may its precepts guide my youth. To Thee, thou Good Supreme ! I bend, Do thou the humble prayer attend. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON LENDING A PUNCH BOWL by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES WORK by ALEKSANDR SERGEYEVICH PUSHKIN ODES I, 38. AD MINISTRAM by QUINTUS HORATIUS FLACCUS THE ARAB TO THE PALM by BAYARD TAYLOR THE VOICE OF THE RAIN by WALT WHITMAN TASTE, AN EPISTLE TO A YOUNG CRITIC by JOHN ARMSTRONG THE FOUR ZOAS: NIGHTS THE FIRST AND SECOND by WILLIAM BLAKE |