<h3><SPAN name="The_Venal_Muse" id="The_Venal_Muse"></SPAN>The Venal Muse</h3>
<p class="margin-b">
Oh Muse of my heart—so fond of palaces old,<br/>
Wilt have—when New Year speeds its wintry blast,<br/>
Amid those tedious nights, with snow o'ercast,<br/>
A log to warm thy feet, benumbed with cold?<br/>
<br/>
Wilt thou thy marbled shoulders then revive<br/>
With nightly rays that through thy shutters peep?<br/>
And—void thy purse and void thy palace—reap<br/>
A golden hoard within some azure hive?<br/>
<br/>
Thou must, to earn thy daily bread, each night,<br/>
Suspend the censer like an acolyte,<br/>
Te-Deums sing, with sanctimonious ease,<br/>
<br/>
Or as a famished mountebank, with jokes obscene<br/>
Essay to lull the vulgar rabble's spleen;<br/>
Thy laughter soaked in tears which no one sees.<br/></p>
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