Why cannot I read to-night? Because
Fair Silvia's eyes have smitten me through
Or visions of boating make me pause
As I read of the pranks of a trireme's crew? —
But I care for Silvia not two straws,
I always thought her mouth was askew;
A landsman I who grudge the applause
Those saucy aquatics deem their due.

Then say, why cannot I read to-night?
Do I dream of a face that I loved at school?
Of the hour that suddenly reft its light,
That took the genius, left the fool? —
Ah, no, if I read my case aright,
The past is dead in my torpid brain:
When I lost whate'er made existence bright,
I lost the pleasure of feeling pain.

Am I haunted by echoes of J. K. S.?
Or the jocund carols of C. S. C.?
Enslaved to the Lady of Lyonesse,
Or out on a frolic with soldiers three?
But not my soul did the Muses bless
With a love of the lyre — not to mention the liar —
Pray pardon me, Rudyard; romance, I guess,
Can strike from my dulness no spark of fire.

Why cannot I read to-night, then, why?
Found at last — more worth than some deep underground hoard,
— That villain next door 's making melody
On banjo — three strings snapped and hole in the sound-board.