Muse

For one tireless in encouragement and belief, a resonating sounding board, a catalyst, an anchor to ideas taken flight and too often taken for granted, what can I say to redeem myself except:

 

Lyric light is mine
Brother of the way;
Give me yellow wine
Sing me songs today –
I am thine, and thine
I shall be alway

Laughter of the gods
Makes melodious song
In the phallic rods
Of those who dare and long:
The dull world slowly plods;
Our pinions shall be strong.

Thou art mine, for I
Live my life in thee:
While beneath the sky
Thou remember’st me –
Till at last we die-
One in pan are we.

The light that thou hast given
Lights my muse to bed:
Thou has starred my heaven
With planets wild and red:
Twin stars and planets seven
Are lighted overhead.

 

From The Triumph of Pan, The Romance of Olivia Vane, poem IX

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