Your Poem

My poem may be yours

In melody and tone,

If in its rhythm you can readA music of your own;

If in its pale woof you can

Your lovelier design,'Twill make my lyric,

I believe,        More yours than mine.

I'm but a prompter at the best;

Crude cues are all I give.

In simple stanzas I suggest -'Tis you who make them live.

My bit of rhyme is but a frame,

And if my lines you quote,

I think, although they bear my name,        'Tis you who wrote.

Yours is the beauty that you

In any words I sing;

The magic and the melody'Tis you, dear friend, who bring.

Yea, by the glory and the gleam,

The loveliness that

Your thought to starry heights of dream,        The poem's yours.