Classic Poem

Come Gentle Muse , and once more lend thine aid,
O bring thy Succour to a humble Maid!
How often dost thou liberally dispense
To our dull Breast thy quick'ning Influence!
By thee inspir'd, I'll chearful tune my Voice,
And Love and sacred Friendship make my Choice.
In my pleas'd Bosom you can freely pour,
A greater Treasure than Joves Golden Shower .
Come now, fair Muse , and fill my empty Mind,
With rich Idea's, great and unconfin'd.
Instruct me in those secret Arts that lie
Unseen to all but to a Poet's Eye.
O let me burn with Sappho's noble Fire,
But not like her for faithless Man expire.
And let me rival great Orinda's Fame,
Or like sweet Philomela's be my Name.
Go lead the way, my Muse, nor must you stop,
'Till we have gain'd Parnassus shady Top:
'Till I have view'd those fragrant soft Retreats,
Those Fields of Bliss, the Muses sacred Seats.
I'll then devote thee to fair Virtues Fame,
And so be worthy of a Poet's name.