Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MAGIC, by PUBLIUS OVIDIUS NASO


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

MAGIC, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves
Last Line: By my so potent art.
Alternate Author Name(s): Ovid
Subject(s): Death; Graves; Mythology - Classical; Dead, The; Tombs; Tombstones


YE elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves,
And ye that on the sands with printless foot
Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him
When he comes back, you demi-puppets that
By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make,
Whereof the ewe not bites; and you whose pastime
Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice
To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid,
Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimm'd
The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds,
And 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault
Set roaring war; to the dread rattling thunder
Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak
With his own bolt; the strong-bas'd promontory
Have I made shake, and by the spurs pluck'd up
The pine and cedar; graves at my command
Have wak'd their sleepers, op'd, and let 'em forth
By my so potent art.





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