Explore "The Sick Journalist" by Edith Nesbit on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Throb, throb, throb, weariness, ache, and pain! / One's heart and one's eyes on fire, / And never a spark in one's brain.
The stupid paper and ink, / That might be turned into gold, / Lie here unused / Since one's brain refused / To do its tricks -- as of old.