That's great, John, enough to make my quick effort seem extra lame, but here goes:
To William
No one 'framed my symmetry'
And no one made the Lamb or me.
No furnace ever held my brain.
There was no hammer, was no chain.
Your catalog of lies continues:
No artful shoulder touched my sinews.
But most of all, no hand or eye
Has ever spelled my name with Y.