Eos: An Epic of the Dawn, and Other Poems

By Nicholas Flood Davin


 

IN MEMORY OF A DINNER.

ADDRESSED TO THE LATE HON. J. B. PLUMB.


 

In other days round classic boards, I met
        With those whose young brows bore the laurel, pure
        From stain. Talking of art and strong to endure
All things, we felt youth’s star could never set.
The wine I spurn now like an anchoret,
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        But oft from out the past I fain would lure
        The joyous wit, the impromptu portraiture,
The high philosophies which haunt me yet.

Fresh as those you gave us for a whet,
        Apicius sent cool bivalves to his friend
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        In Parthia. Many millions would he spend
On feasts colossal; but I’d make a bet
Than yours a choicer did he never get,
        And higher our young wits did ne’er ascend.

OTTAWA, March 7th, 1884.
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