William Preston Johnston - Prologue II lyrics

I leave the trumpet and full throated horn Of epic to the leaders of the choir, The martial strain, the sigh of love forlorn, To him who smites the loud resounding lyre And chants with lips touched by the sacred fire Imperial themes of patriot fervor born, The joy of combat and the noble ire That withers wrong with fierce consuming fire. My task, to show the patriarchs of the eld And seekers after God by nature's light And saints who witnessed truth in suffering; Small pictures of the past by faith beheld, That grants dim eyes a sacred second sight; These in the sonnet's narrow bounds I sing.