Classic Poem

An artless youth, who simple in his love,
Seem'd little hopeful from his heart to fly,
To thee that heart, O lady, nor deny
The votive gift, he brings; since that shall prove
All change and fear and falsity above.
Of manners that to gentle deeds comply,
And courteous will, that never asketh why;
Yet, mild as is the never-wrathful dove,
Firmness it hath, and fortitude to bear
The wrecks of nature, or the wrongs of fate,
From envy far, and low-designing care,
And hopes and fears that vulgar minds await,
With the sweet Muse, and sounding lyre elate,
And only weak, when love had entrance there.