Classic Poem

Lady, forgive if late the languid lyre,
At length responsive to thy sweetest lay,
Breathe its low trembling chord with weak essay,
To utter all my grateful thoughts inspire;
Forgive, if vacant of poetic fire
I seem with frigid heart and dull delay
The flattering summons careless to obey;
Woo'd, kindly woo'd, so highly to aspire,
And echo the soft name of friend! — for me,
Alas! for me, in anguish and in fear,
The darkling days have since rolled heavily;
But go, my Psyche! in her partial ear
Whisper the sad excuse; and bid her see
In thine, the " sister form " most fair, most dear!