O THOU! who dwell'st in memory ever blest,
(By whatsoever name in heaven thou'rt known,
Thyself on earth, the last and loveliest one,
An angel in my bosom art confessed:)
If thou inspire my song as thou know'st best,
And aid my fond endeavor now begun,
No fabled muse need I for guidance own
The fair inhabitant of my cold breast.
Yet whether this my song may stand the test,
Or challenge the full sure advance of time,
I little know; but if the hidden force
Of Love, and its strong faith, in which I rest,
Assist my heart to build the tuneful rhyme,
Thou only canst be named the primal source.