Orpheus, 't is said, the Thracian lyre-strings sweeping, Stayed the swift stream and soothed the savage brute; Cithaeron's rocks, to Thebes spontaneous leaping, Rose into walls before Amphion's lute. With dripping steeds did Galatea follow, 'Neath Aetna's crags, lone Polyphemus's song: Is 't strange the loved of Bacchus and Apollo Leads captive with his lay the maiden throng! Though no Taenarian blocks uphold my dwelling, Nor ivory panels shine 'tween gilded beams; No orchards mine Phaeacia's woods excelling, No chiselled grots where Martian water streams,-- Yet Song is mine; my strain the heart engages; Faint from the dance sinks the lithe Muse with me: O happy maid whose name adorns my pages! Each lay a lasting monument to time! The pyramids that cleave heaven's jewelled portal; Elean Jove's star-spangled dome; the tomb Where rich Mausolus sleeps, -- are not immortal, Nor shall escape inevitable doom. Devouring fire and rains will mar their splendor; The weight of years will drag the marble down: Genius alone a name can deathless render, And round the forehead wreathe the unfading crown. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VARIATIONS: 12 by CONRAD AIKEN DINNER IN A QUICK LUNCH ROOM by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET REGARDING CHAINSAWS by HAYDEN CARRUTH HOW THEY GO ON by JAMES GALVIN LOHENGRIN; PROEM by EMMA LAZARUS ON A YOUNG LADY'S SIXTH ANNIVERSARY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD |