To Begin a Poem

O! But for the words to start
The verse that so desires to be writ
That plays within heart, yet holds its breath
Presses my tongue to die upon its tip
Speak to me, ye syllabic enchanters
In consonant or vowell to shape the sound
Emphatic and resonating taste
When pure phonetic formula is found
Perhaps if words knew their weight to me
They might, at last, my loving servant be