Could I but write the words he’d sing the song.
So sung, my verse would haply win a smile
From his bright beauty of the sister Isle,
Who comes prepared her country’s pride to save,
For every Saxon is at once her slave;
But no, I must not for assistance look,
So, Mrs. Baring, you must keep your book
For cleverer pens and I no more will trouble you,
But just remain your baffled bard.”
G. W. (1879).