Eos: An Epic of the Dawn, and Other Poems

By Nicholas Flood Davin


 

TO MRS. CORBETT.


 

In other days when love was king,
    Betimes I learned to woo,
And whoso asked me then to sing,
    Could have a stave or two.

But now my Muse is lumpish grown,
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    And laughs at Cupid’s token,
And my poor heart—’tis but a stone,
    So hard—though often broken.

Thus as I pondered deep to-day,
    And for invention panted,
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My Muse grew bright as any fay,
    Enchanting and enchanted!

And from her lips such music stole,
    As never on this orb yet
Was heard, I cried: “My muse! my soul!”
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    My Muse! ’Twas Mrs. Corbett. [Page 102]