Their music ceased -- and rising from thy throne, Thou took'st thy harp that on the laurel hung, And bending o'er its chords to try their tone, A faintly trembling murmur o'er them rung: At each sweet sound that broke upon the ear, Started the listening throng, and gazed and smiled; The satyr leaning on his ivy spear, Peeped forth delighted from the flowery wild, And, while thou tunedst the keys, the raptured soul Hung o'er the flying tones that on the zephyrs stole. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DIORAMA PAINTER AT THE MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY by KAREN SWENSON SOHRAB AND RUSTUM by MATTHEW ARNOLD A HYMN [TO THE NAME AND] IN HONOR OF SAINT TERESA by RICHARD CRASHAW TRAVEL by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY A DESCRIPTION OF A CITY SHOWER by JONATHAN SWIFT ODES: BOOK 2: ODE 1 by MARK AKENSIDE ALMOND BLOSSOM by EDWIN ARNOLD STANZAS, COMPOSED WHILE WALKING ON WARREN HILL, EARLY SUMMER'S MORNING by BERNARD BARTON |