Eos: An Epic of the Dawn, and Other Poems

By Nicholas Flood Davin




Other poets meet
    Their mistress in a garden,
Watering happy flowers,
    Drest like Dolly Varden;
Mine’s a happier fate,
    Makes every hour so tender,
For Jennie cleans the grate
    And toilets up the fender.

O, my anguish dire,
    I’m sadder than Lord Lovell,
When I see her coax the fire,
    And cuddle the old shovel;
My heart is full of wrongs,
    That I never spoke her,
I’m jealous of the tongs,
    I hate that rakish poker.

O, what joys must rest,
    Where this hand would falter!
Blest rose upon her breast,
    Thrice blest the beaded halter.
I would be that rose,
    And tho’ dry as rushes,
My sap should gather power,
    My leaves bloom back her blushes; [Page 95]
And eke that beaded chain,
    Gods! how each bead would quiver,
When love shot through a vein,
    Like sunlight through a river!

Her mother ruled the house,
    And acted small and shabby,
She made me play the mouse,
    While she played the old tabby.
Never once a tasty dish,
    But all things one would tire on,
She gave me ancient fish,
    And beef steak as hard as iron.

Once I grew quite red,
    Th’untouched beef steak brought her.
She tost her handsome hear:
    “’Twas purchased by my daughter.”
I just touched Jennie’s slender
    Waist, and said: “Enough,
But never aught so tender
    Purchased aught so tough.” [Page 96]