Nor low nor high! My heart learned once that prayer,
The string o'er-stretched breaks, and the music flies;
The string o'er-slack is dumb, and music dies;
Tune us the sitar neither low nor high.
That humble prayer, that asks the steady glow
Of moderation only; seeks to know
The strength of slow successes; fears to share
Ambitions sweet, tempting to heights more fair.
A simple life, attuned nor high nor low,
May gain a heaven, escape from bitter woe,
Nor need to greatly suffer, greatly dare.
Take back Thy gift of peace! I claim the smart
And ache of passion for a vision high!
Make me Thine instrument, and justify
This longing once Thy message to impart!
Awake one song to stir a hero's heart,
Then let the tense strings break, the music die!