If homely virtues draw from me a tune + 

In happy jingle or a half-sad croon; + 

Or if the smoldering future should inspire + 

My hand to strike the seer’s prophetic lyre; + 

Or if injustice, brutishness and wrong + 

Should make a blasting trumpet of my song; + 

O God, give beauty and strength⁠—truth to my words, + 

Oh, may they fall like sweetly cadenced chords, + 

Or burn like beacon fires from out the dark, + 

Or speed like arrows, swift and sure, to the mark. + 