Classic Poem

Let Poets pray the gods their wit t' inspire,
My holy flames are kindled by thy fire;
My Musedrinks at thy fountain, thou alone
To me Parnassus art and Helicon;
And though that some would dam up all thy streams,
And with their new lights put out thy old beams,
Yet I shall pray, and hope Heaven will me hear,
That thy Light still may shine, thy Spring run clear.
I tender thee this slender offering,
Wishing that I a better had to bring;
But what it wants either of wit or art,
To make it up, I here present my heart.