Padraic Colum

A POOR SCHOLAR OF THE FORTIES

My eyelids red and heavy are

With bending o'er the smould'ring peat.

I know the Aeneid now by heart,

My Virgil read in cold and heat,

In loneliness and hunger smart,

And I know Homer, too, I ween,

As Muster poets know Ossian.

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