The Poetry Corner

To Minerva

By Thomas Hood

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 sight is foul, I cannot write a verse, or read - Then Pallas, take away thine Owl, And let us have a Lark instead. Thomas Hood.