 | Poems (1899) |  |
318
[[To Mr. R. W.]]
“Zealously my Muse doth salute all thee,Enquiring of that mystic trinity
Whereof thou, and all to whom heavens do infuse
Like fire, are made,—thy body, mind and Muse.
Dost thou recover sickness, or prevent?
Or is thy mind travail'd with discontent?
Or art thou parted from the world and me,
In a good scorn of the world's vanity?
Or is thy devout Muse retir'd to sing
Upon her tender elegiac string?
Our minds part not; join then thy Muse with mine,
For mine is barren thus divorc'd from thine.”
| Poems (1899) | |