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Prayer before Work by May Sarton
Great one, austere,By whose intent the distant star
Holds its course clear,
Now make this spirit soar —
Give it that ease.
Out of the absolute
Abstracted grief, comfortless, mute,
Sound the clear note,
Pure, piercing as the flute:
Give it precision.
Austere, great one,
By whose grace the inalterable song
May still be wrested from
The corrupt lung:
Give it strict form.