Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SONNET: EUTERPE, by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH



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SONNET: EUTERPE, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Now if euterpe held me not in scorn
Last Line: Drawn by the flutings of the silvery wind.
Subject(s): Poetry & Poets


Now if Euterpe held me not in scorn,
I'd shape a lyric, perfect, fair, and round
As that thin band of gold wherewith I bound
Your slender finger our betrothal morn.
Not of Desire alone is music born,
Not till the Muse wills is our passion crowned:
Unsought she comes, if sought but seldom found.
Hence is it Poets often are forlorn,
Taciturn, shy, self-immolated, pale,
Taking no healthy pleasure in their kind --
Wrapt in their dream as in a coat-of-mail.
Hence is it I, the least, a very hind,
Have stolen away into this leafy vale
Drawn by the flutings of the silvery wind.





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