An Incubus Poem by John Bannister Tabb
An Incubus
Sobbed the Blotter to the Ink,
'Though your every word I drink,
Your broken lines alone are my reward.'
'The truth,' said he, 'you've spoken;
And no wonder they are broken
When you press me so incessantly and hard.'
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
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4/25/2024 9:42:07 PM # 1.0.0.1119
