Collected Poems of John Holmes
Holmes, John A., Jr.
"What in me is dark
Illumine, what is low raise and support,"
Stoutly prayed my master, Milton,
In his time, when he was dark, being Milton.
In what I mean as hard and honest rhyme,
In my hour, needing the Power he cried to,
I speak to You.
Tell me why I may not hope for praise,
Having somewhat earned it in my days.
Make my sudden angers suddenly over.
Let me discover,
When I hope for nothing new,
Something new, for discovery's sake.
Give me the care of something new to make.
Tell me to turn my searching in
And show me there
That You have always been.
Help me go up when no one knows
How dark, how sick, how secret grows
My fear, though what they think is light is near.
And lift my disorderly mind
That strays and hungers,
Too easily climbs, easily lingers;
O shoulder me up the rock though I seem blind,
Up toward the difficult place
Where I may see John Milton's face.