Acrostic : Georgiana Augusta Keats

by John Keats

　　

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Give me your patience, sister, while I frame Exact in capitals your golden name; Or sue the fair Apollo and he will Rouse from his heavy slumber and instill Great love in me for thee and Poesy. Imagine not that greatest mastery And kingdom over all the Realms of verse, Nears more to heaven in aught, than when we nurse And surety give to love and Brotherhood. Anthropophagi in Othello's mood; Ulysses storm'd and his enchanted belt Glow with the Muse, but they are never felt Unbosom'd so and so eternal made, Such tender incense in their laurel shade To all the regent sisters of the Nine As this poor offering to you, sister mine. Kind sister! aye, this third name says you are; Enchanted has it been the Lord knows where; And may it taste to you like good old wine, Take you to real happiness and give Sons, daughters and a home like honied hive.

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