Christopher Morley Poems >>
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 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.