Lines for an album

Alicia bids me wake the lay,Alicia courts my muse;Sweet girl, with pleasure I obey,—'T were painful to refuse;

For well I feel, though weak the strain,Though poor the lines may flow,No critic harsh have I to gain,Approval to bestow.

Alicia loves the simplest proofOf friendship and regard;To gain her smile were boon enoughTo inspire a worthier bard.

But much I fear her poet's lyre,Though tuned with earnest heart,Can never equal or aspireTo half her painter's art.

No flowers have I of hue so brightAs his to adorn the page,No brilliant tints to attract the sight,And pleased regard engage;

Else should the rose of England twineWith Erin's shamrock green,And friendship's ivy-leaf divineBloom verdantly between.