The Intruder

As I sat, to sift my dreaming

To the meet and needed word,

Came a merry Interruption

With insistence to be heard.

Smiling stood a maid beside me,

Half alluring and half shy;

Soft the white hint of her bosom—

Escapade was in her eye.

“I must not be so invaded,”

(In an anger then I cried)—

“Can’t you see that I am busy?

Tempting creature, stay outside!

“Pearly rascal, I am writing:

I am now composing verse—

Fie on antic invitation:

Wanton, vanish—fly—disperse!

“Baggage, in my godlike moment

What have I to do with thee?”

And she laughed as she departed—

“I am Poetry,” said she.