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Poem by Margaret Chalmers


To the Muses


AVAUNT ! ye Nine; no more I sue
    For your capricious aid,
Since you could thus its power deny
    To an invoking maid.
So fair a vot'ry ne'er before
    Had breath'd Parnassian air,
Nor did Castalia's boasted stream
    E'er show a form so fair.
To see your shrine so highly grac'd,
    Quickly inflam'd your pride;
Confusion reign'd throughout the hill,
    And you the suit denied.
Mournful Melpomene declin'd
    Her tearful aid to lend;
And sage Historic Clio's brow
    No fav'ring smiles unbend.
When chearful Thalia, stepping forth,
    Cry'd "Sisters, why so shy?
"If fair Eliza will accept
    "My aid, her muse, am I."



Margaret Chalmers


Margaret Chalmers's other poems:
  1. The Rose of the Rock
  2. Verses: In Humble Imitation of Burns
  3. The Author's Address to the Critics
  4. Address to the Evening Star
  5. Verses on the Jubilee Night at Lerwick


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • William Blake To The Muses ("Whether on Ida's shady brow")

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