Statius, sweet poet, accompany by my side,
While I muse quietly over my changeless love;
Come walk with me closely, matching with slow stride,
In search, for I search in vain, for my dove.
I curse just my luck, cause on this mild day,
She works, and her pretty face, seem miles away.

Past hours of recent weeks, Statius, I do tell,
Of how tender lips have spoken to mine own,
And here I sit, with you great poet, in the sunbathed Bell;
My ears have made my heart joyous welcoming her lovely tone.
So, my Emily, hear this tune, and for sure, truly do know;
That you are missed by me and my friend, much more than
My tune could ever show.