Mary! I want a lyre with other strings, <br />Such aid from heaven as some have feigned they drew. <br />An eloquence scarce given to mortals, new <br />And undebased by praise of meaner things, <br />That ere through age or woe I shed my wings, <br />I may record thy worth with honour due, <br />In verse as musical as thou art true, <br />And that immortalises whom it sings. <br />But thou hast little need. There is a book <br />By seraphs writ with beams of heavenly light <br />On which the eyes of God not rarely look, <br />A chronicle of actions just and bright; <br />There all thy deeds, my faithful Mary, shine; <br />And, since thou own'st that praise, I spare thee mine.<br /><br />William Cowper<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-mrs-unwin/
