Classic Poem

Maiden! from whose large, intellectual eyes,
My soul first drank love's immortality,
Plume my weak spirit for its chosen skies,
'T would falter in its mission without thee.
Conduct its flight; and if its musings be
Oft'ner of earth than heaven, bear awhile
With what is native to mortality:
It dare not err exulting in thy smile:
Look on it with thine eyes, and keep it free from guile.