Verse > Anthologies > Fuess and Stearns, eds. > The Little Book of Society Verse
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Fuess and Stearns, comps.  The Little Book of Society Verse.  1922.
 
To Minerva
By Thomas Hood
 
From the Greek

MY temples throb, my pulses boil,
  I’m sick of Song, and Ode, and Ballad—
So Thyrsis, take the midnight oil,
  And pour it on a lobster salad.
 
My brain is dull, my light is foul,        5
  I cannot write a verse, or read,—
Then Pallas take away thine Owl,
  And let us have a Lark instead.
 
 
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