How

How can I work when you play the piano, Feminine person above? How can I think, with your ceaseless soprano Singing: 'Ah, Love-'? How can I dream of a subject aesthetic, Far from the purlieus of prose? How, with the call of the peripatetic 'High! High cash clo'es!'? How can I write when the children are crying? How can I poetize-how? How can I help imper_fect_ versifying? (There is some now.) How can I bathe in the thought-waves of beauty? How, with my nerves on the slant, Can I perform my poetical duty? Frankly, I can't.