"TEACH me to kiss the Dorian flute, The Dorian pipe to blow; I with my own breath would salute Great Pan before I go; And may the genius of the place Adopt me in the shepherd race!" So, perched on Monte Venere, I prayed a little goat-skin boy To leave his herd and sit by me, And teach me all the shepherd's joy. "What is your name?" to him I said: "Orfeo," blithe reply he made. I took the flute, I took the pipe; No reed would to my breath respond; He laughed to see me blow, and wipe My lips, the pretty vagabond; Still nature's child, though notes I snatch, Was victor in that singing match. But I was paid when, as behooved, I threw into his shaggy lap The gifts by ancient time approved, My London scarf and Naples cap; And, as of old, the happy boy Leaped high, and clapped his hands for joy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PARTING AT MORNING by ROBERT BROWNING FIRST BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 11 by THOMAS CAMPION AND WHAT SHALL YOU SAY? by JOSEPH SEAMON COTTER JR. ABSALOM AND ACHITOPHEL by JOHN DRYDEN ON LENDING A PUNCH BOWL by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES CONTENT; WRITTEN OFF ITHACA by ALFRED AUSTIN AN ACTOR'S REMINISCENCES by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |