Let Homer’s deep majestic lyre,
To sing of gods and men aspire,
And thundering flash poetic fire,
Let fame applauding, shout it
Around the earth, and through the Earth
About it, and about it.
Give me the thought, give me the line
Of fancy born, and feelings fine,
Which scorns by labor’d art to shine,
Yet well can reach without it,
Around the heart, and through the heart
About it, and about it.
Come love! and friendship! in your turns
With rosy wreaths, or funeral urns,
(’Twas ye that taught sweet simple Burns
Excelling art, to scout it)
Come to my heart, and tell my heart
About it, and about it.
Psyche