| Thomas Bailey Aldrich |
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| • | Romance beside
his unstrung lute, |
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| Lies stricken
mute. |
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| The old-time
fire, the antique |
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| grace, |
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| You will not
find them anyplace, |
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| Polemic,
scientific air: |
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| We strip
Illusion of her veil; |
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| We vivisect the
nightingale |
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| To probe the
secret of his note. |
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| The Muse in
alien ways remote |
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| Goes wandering. |
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