O Muse of mine, where have you gone?
I miss the sweetness of your song;
Alas, no voice is on the wind;
No fiery flame stirs from within
My spirit you once used to make –
Held gently in your warm embrace –
Divulge its secrets safely kept,
And bid them rush out of my breast
What symphonies you used to play
That through small words I sought to catch;
Though now it seems you’ve gone away,
And left my soul an empty nest.