Fragment of an Ode to Maia

Mother of Hermes! and still youthful Maia!
          May I sing to thee
As thou wast hymnèd on the shores of Baiæ?
          Or may I woo thee
In earlier Sicilian? or thy smiles
Seek as they once were sought, in Grecian isles,
By bards who died content on pleasant sward,
  Leaving great verse unto a little clan?
O give me their old vigour! and unheard
  Save of the quiet primrose, and the span
          Of heaven, and few ears,
Rounded by thee, my song should die away
          Content as theirs,
Rich in the simple worship of a day.