Classic Poem

I am here to sing thee songs. In this
hall of thine I have a corner seat.
In thy world I have no work to do; my useless life
can only break out in tunes without a purpose.
When the hour strikes for thy silent worship
at the dark temple of midnight, command me,
my master, to stand before thee to sing.
When in the morning air the golden harp is tuned,
honor me, commanding my presence.