My Deep-Sighing Muse Revisited

Forlorn, my Muse breathes a profound, deep sigh; silent, I just observe and don't ask why. Her sigh belies her true, fervent desire, for she's forever near to just inspire. Though sad, she sees me in the cool of morn by brook and bower where my songs are born: she, lighter from the music of my songs, is the dear one to whom my heart belongs. And I, reposed nearby the babbling brook and bower (far, far from the tow'ring rook!), motion her hither, my deep-sighing Muse: for if she's beckoned, she won't then refuse to be my lifelong Muse until I'm dead, when by all I'll be studied and well-read so all the world will know how I so yearned, and in my lines see how for her I burned!