So much to know before I go,
So much yet left unsaid,
So many verses, row by row,
Still uncomposed, unread.
I pray then for the time and mind
To do what should be done
So wit and artistry combined
Make sound and sense grow one.
To fail in this for lack of will
Would show ingratitude
For gifts God-given: latent skill
And native aptitude.
I owe it to myself and you
To write as well as I can do.
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