My muse

Another Quatern

My muse be dull and deathly cold,
All lyrics and finest of rhyme,
Though my thoughts be teeming and bold
And my day be in purest prime,

My brighter moments,all true blooms.
My muse be dull and deathly cold
And a day of blank truly comes
When selfish quatrains do arms fold,

All verse unknown,all tales untold,
All denied by powers that be.
My muse be dull and deathly cold,
My daunting pen,my softest glee,

All care by Apollo withdrawn,
My ample pleasures,my poise of old,
My victorious heyday,all gone.
My muse,be dull and deathly cold!

A poem by Lancelot

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