Fifth Hymn to Erato

“Erato The Muse of Love Poetry” by Francois Boucher, stolen from: https://pixelsmerch.com/featured/erato-the-muse-of-love-poetry-francois-boucher.html

Dear Erato, again I seek for thee.
I am turning to stone, o muse; each day 
Passing brings on the silence of death—an
Inward death, wherein the heart cannot be
Touched. My lamentations are repetitions;
I always fall into the same old bogs
Within, become drowned in mists of sloth and
Thoughtless numbness, and have to write like this
To break out of it—rewrite my same old
Dreary confessions as more-than-nothing—
But not much more. I tire of this, Erato.
I want a different theme, something not caught
Up in myself. I want what I sometimes
Feel when I am free from me and life’s voice
Reaches me again. O muse, yet once more
I entreat thee: teach me to follow after
Thee, and someday, grant that I may never leave.