Poems (Kemble)/Impromptu (You say you're glad I write—oh, say not so)

For works with similar titles, see Impromptu.
4529738Poems — ImpromptuFrances Anne Kemble

IMPROMPTU.
You say you're glad I write—oh, say not so!
My fount of song, dear friend, 's a bitter well;
And when the numbers freely from it flow,
Tis that my heart, and eyes, o'erflow as well.

Castalia, fam'd of yore,—the spring divine,
Apollo's smile upon its current wears:
Moore and Anacreon, found its waves were wine,
To me, it flows a sullen stream of tears.