The flutes, the silver flutes began with dawn, With dawn the flutes and hidden birds began; All tremulous with stops the music ran Of light, skilled fingers lifted or laid on; The birds were practiced, too, and played upon Obedient throats that tracked no casual plan: For as they played they all looked up at Pan -- Nor had the flutes his leadership foregone. Then I saw altars gleaming, marble-pure, With fire -- or day -- too bright to shine in words; Again, I saw the satyrs' quick pursuits, The nymphs' delayed escapes, with yielding sure, While -- was it flutes that waked the hidden birds Or birds that brought awakening to the flutes? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DINNER IN A QUICK LUNCH ROOM by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET THE TRASH MEN by CHARLES BUKOWSKI CONTRA MORTEM: THE MOUNTAIN FASTNESS by HAYDEN CARRUTH MATERNITY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE BLACK MONKEY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD |