He Bids His Muse Content Herself in Patience

Oh not to-night ... Oh not to-night!
No, eager heart, I will not write
My One Immortal Verse to-night!

There are a hundred reasons why
To-night is not the time. For I
Am stale and stagnant. By and by!

Some other time, divinely stirred
To fury, I will grind and gird
And choose the just, pluperfect word.

Oh Muse, Thou wilt not now require
The task. Men change not at desire
Water to wine, and ink to fire!

Thou knowest, till the appointed pain
How comfortably in the brain
Unwritten madrigals remain.

Be patient, Lady! Ah, ere long,
Some evening, pure and purged and strong,
That Absolutely Deathless Song!
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