Classic Poem

A seat on the Cassiopeian stars,
A quill from the eagle's wing;
Papyrus gleaned from the fens of Mars
With ink of darkness and leave to sing:

I would set my song to a larger theme
Than shepherds blow from the reeds of Pan;
I would croon to the beat
Of the Centaur's feet
In tracks where the hounds of Bootes ran;

For I should listen across the night,
And hear the tones of that mightier word
That sings in a far intenser light
The strains of a deep eternal chord.