My voice is lost; upon my page appears
No burning message from supernal spheres.
But Teian glow and Lesbian passion still
A thousand lyres in every land they thrill.
A chord once found belongs, the whole world through,
To every minstrel that can strike it true.
My verses rhyme (at least some of them do),
And sweet as ever in our ear there chimes
The melody of old recurrent rhymes.
Dove ever mates with love, and bliss with kiss,