I garner that, in all your woes,
You must have forgotten me
And in the way that our mind goes,
You've forgot the comfort I'd be.

I'm not fancying I know your mind
And I have not seen thy heart
I simply hoped, in tempest’s wind,
I might have held a part.

And in the chance you did so think
To gaze upon myself
I beg of you, let not me think
That you left me on the shelf.

An experiment with a more classic style.