I’ll again do my best, yes, surely I’ll try;
The fair one who brings it ought sure to inspire
Some poetical lay from Genius’ sweet lyre.
But Genius repels me, she “turns a deaf ear,”
And frowns on me scornful, the year after year;
Perhaps if I sue, in the “sere yellow leaf,”
She’ll open her heart, and yield me relief.
But wayward my pen, I must now bid adieu,
My friendship, dear madam, I offer to you,
And beg with your friends, you’ll please place my name,