Uplift thy lyre, and touch the tender strings; <br />But leave unsung the epics of thy land <br />Til thou and time have made a song both grand <br />And mellow with thy long imaginings. <br />Breathe forth the secret whisperings of thy birth, <br />And play the soft tunes of thine infancy; <br />Nor sing the dull oft-told reality <br />Of worldly ways; but rather let the earth <br />Grow old; then sing the great songs of its youth. <br />Then thou, whilst ageing in the pass of time, <br />Add fame to fame, and rhyme to gloried rhyme <br />Till fit thy lyre is for song of Truth. <br />But now, a child-song sweet with laughs and <br />Tears, <br />And let the unripe ripen with the years.<br /><br />Leon Gellert<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-australian-muse/
