Classic Poem

O Muse that, in my days of youth,
I, Penrhyn, sought in field and wood,
Once more, with thee as mentor good,
In verse I'd mirror nature's truth.

On distant seas, in alien lands,
Long wont to roam, I knew thee not;
Almost thine accents I forgot,
The ministrations of thy hands

But now once more, the clouds among,
Goddess, thy flight I hear thee winging;
Knight-errant I, whom thy sweet singing
Lures to the fairy-land of song.

Help thou my thought, guide thou my hand,
That I no idle thing may write;
Bless thou the song I now indite —
My wanderings over sea and land.