Classic Poem

Tis thy command, and Edwin shall obey
My voice shall sound submissive to thy will,
Tho' sad my lute and mournful be my lay
Yet tis enough, thy slave obeys thee still.

Poor as I am, my love how dare I own
No boon to offer, but a faithful heart,
Unblest with fortune's gifts, obscure, unknown
With nought my portion but this tuneful art.

Yet pardon sentiments as warm and pure
As tho' by royal lips they were profest,
My thoughts are noble, tho' my state obscure
And truth and honour harbour in this breast.

The Muses too have deign'd to touch my tongue
Early they charmed my simple ravished ear,
Each rising sun a tender hopeless song
To thee I'll raise if thou will gently hear.

No hope presumptuous shall my bosom fire,
My sole ambition only thee to please,
A look shall pay the efforts of my lyre,
A smile the highest boon my soul would seize.

Attendant on thy steps Oh might I guard
Protect, defend thee with an anxious eye,
No ill should reach thee which this arm could ward
Thy servant would I live thy champion die

Art thou for some blest youth reserved by fate
The nuptial song I'll raise, the garland weave
Nor mix my woes nor envy his high state
But boast myself thy minstrel and thy slave.