The gift sent by thy heavenly muse;
So valued—with so kind a view,
To thy poor friend—alas! not due;
Who if to thy soft soothing lay
The trembling wire she did essay;
To strike—perchance one casual note,
Upon the liquid air to float:
Inspir’d by thy sweet muse supreme,
Of happiness might dart a gleam.
To thy mellifluous harp the sounds belong,