Acrostic : Georgiana Augusta Keats

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.