Aye! many a rhyme my pen has flown,
        In oblivion, all unknown;
    Still many more, perchance, I say,
        Float on in one unbroken lay -
    But ask me naught of where or when,
        Long as they ring in hearts of men!
    Dear friend, I say these words to you,
        Which through the ages will be true:
    Though I have power to combine
        These subtle rhymes of each sweet line -
    Yet, I shall never live to see,
        The title "POET" given me!

More information on Edward Smyth Jones