I Long For Your Truant Inspiration

I long for your truant inspiration, O Muse, for I've felt your absence too long; empower me to sing a gay, new song, that with pen I may still bring creation! Reappear, Muse, to my great elation: for you can never do me ill or wrong; arrive! so that my distress won't prolong, nor shall persist the source of my frustration. For your return shall cripple disrepair of my Parnassus, and will have its sway: so the cease of my creative despair, like spring that reanimates life everywhere, will dawn on this most, most auspicious day when comes alive this sonnet through this way!