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...Is Later Than You Think
Lone amid the cafe's cheer, Sad of heart am I to-night; Dolefully I drink my beer, But no single line I write. There's the wretched rent to pay, Yet I glower at pen and ink: Oh, inspire me, Muse, I pray, ~It is later than you think!~
Hello! there's a pregnant phrase. Bravo! let me write it down; Hold it with a hopeful gaze, Gauge it with a fretful frown; Tune it to my lyric lyre . . . Ah! upon starvation's brink, How the words are dark and dire:It is later than you think.
Weigh them well. . . . Behold yon band, Students drinking by the door, Madly merry, ~bock~ in hand, Saucers stacked to mark their score. Get you gone, you jolly scamps; Let your parting glasses clink; Seek your long neglected lamps: It is later than you think.
Look again: yon dainty blonde, All allure and golden grace, Oh so willing to respond Should you turn a smiling face. Play your part, poor pretty doll; Feast and frolic, pose and prink; There's the Morgue to end it... Proverb, Chinese
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