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.