Eugene Field - To His LuteEugene Field - To His Lute
Work rating:
Low
If ever in the sylvan shade
A song immortal we have made,
Come now, O lute, I prithee come,
Inspire a song of Latium!
A Lesbian first thy glories proved;
In arms and in repose he loved
To sweep thy dulcet strings, and raise
His voice in Love`s and Liber`s praise.
The Muses, too, and him who clings
To Mother Venus` apron-strings,
And Lycus beautiful, he sung
In those old days when you were young.
O shell, that art the ornament
Of Phoebus, bringing sweet content
To Jove, and soothing troubles all,--
Come and requite me, when I call!
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.