A New(er) Acquaintance of Thy Mind: Day 3

And I'm a bit late with this one.

The vacant leaves thy mind's imprint will bear,

But cannot hold the measure of thy soul;

When word to word eternity declare,

Let this one moment all thy worth extol.

The glory of a thousand burning suns

Though still the Muse can summon, and impart,

The storied path of mortal actions runs

Beyond the splendour of a mortal's Art.

Be thou the first: what can the poet say,

Save that he praise the honour of thy name?

There is no verse compos'd of earthly clay

T' outdo the self-styled worth of all thy fame.

Thine actions speak what minstrels have not trac'd:

And of this book, this learning mayst thou taste.