Flower of Ionia's fertile plains, Where Pleasure leagued with Virtue reigns, Where the Pierian Maids of old, Yea, long ere Ilion's tale was told, Too pure, too sacred for our sight, Descended with the silent night To young Arctinus, and Maeander Delay'd his course for Melesander! If there be city on the earth Proud in the children of her birth, Wealth, science, beauty, story, song, These to Miletus all belong. To fix the diadem on his brow For ever, one was wanting .. thou. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SELF-INTERROGATION by EMILY JANE BRONTE THE DANCE OF THE SEVIN DEIDLY SYNNIS by WILLIAM DUNBAR LYRICS TO IANTHE (2). LAMENT by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR ON A FLY DRINKING FROM HIS CUP by WILLIAM OLDYS A SONNET by JAMES KENNETH STEPHEN |