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.
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"My temples throb, my pulses boil,..."
Thomas Hood's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "To Minerva"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...