A Petition

by Amy Lowell

Amy Lowell

I pray to be the tool which to your hand

Long use has shaped and moulded till it be

Apt for your need, and, unconsideringly,

You take it for its service. I demand

To be forgotten in the woven strand

Which grows the multi-coloured tapestry

Of your bright life, and through its tissues lie

A hidden, strong, sustaining, grey-toned band.

I wish to dwell around your daylight dreams,

The railing to the stairway of the clouds,

To guard your steps securely up, where streams

A faery moonshine washing pale the crowds

Of pointed stars. Remember not whereby

You mount, protected, to the far-flung sky.