Philip Ayres - The Request: To Love lyrics

O Love, who in my breast's most noble part, Didst that fair Image lodge, that Form Divine, In whom the sum of Heavenly Graces shine, And there ingrav'dst it with thy golden dart. Now, mighty Workman! Help me by thy art, (Since my dull pen trembles to strike a line) That I on paper copy the design, By thee express'd so lively in my heart. Lend me, when I this great attempt do try, A feather from thy wings, that whilst to write, My hand's employ'd, my thoughts may soar on high; Thy Torch, which fires our hearts and burns so bright, My darker fancy let its flame supply, And through my numbers dart celestial light.