THEY sound their serenades; They listen still and fair; Beneath the soft trees' shades They speak the old words there. 'Tis Tircis' voice I hear, Aminto's voice as well; Clitandre sings his dear; Damis his loves would tell. Their silken waistcoats tight, Their flowing robes in train, Their elegance and light, Their shadow's soft blue stain. In the extatic haze Of moonlight rose and pearl The mandolin still plays Amid the breeze's whirl. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ECSTASY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ODE TO THE JOHNS HOPKINS UNIVERSITY by SIDNEY LANIER HONEY DRIPPER by CLARENCE MAJOR MADMAN OF THE SOUTH SIDE by CLARENCE MAJOR STUDY FOR A GEOGRAPHICAL TRAIL; 2. ILLINOIS by CLARENCE MAJOR |