It is the Muses

And some in graceful measureThe well-loved spot danced round,With lightsome footsteps treadingThe soft and grassy ground.

are unbecmoming ina poet’s household?and that they are notsuitable in ours?[Note: ‘A poet’s household’ is more litterally one ‘dedicated to the Muses.’]

And hears and sees thee, all the while,Softly speaks and sweetly smile.‘Twas this deprived my soul of rest,And raised such tumults in my breast;For, while I gazed, in transport tossed,My breath was gone, my voice was lost;My bosom glowed; the subtle flameRan quick through all my vital frame;O’er my dim eyes a darkness hung;My ears…

waiting where the grove ispleasantest, by precinctssacred to you; incensesmokes on the altar, coldstreams murmur through theapple branches, a youngrose thicket shades the groundand quivering leaves pourdown deep sleep; in meadowswhere horses have grown sleekamong spring flowers, dillscents the air. Queen! Cyprian!Fill our gold cups with lovestirred into clear nectar

Whose ears thy tongue’s sweet melodyMay still devour.Thou smilest too!–sweet smile, whose charmHas struck my soul with wild alarm,And, when I see thee, bids disarmEach vital power.Speechless I gaze: the flame withinRuns swift o’er all my quivering skin:My eyeballs swim; with dizzy dinMy brain reels round;And cold drops fall; and tremblings frailSeize every limb; and…

Dumb in the silent tomb;Nor to thy nameShall there be any fameIn ages yet to be or years to come:For of the flowering Rose,Which on Pieria blows,Thou hast no share:But in sad Hades’ house,Unknown, inglorious,‘Mid the dim shades that wander thereShalt thou flit forth and haunt the filmy air.

are unbecmoming ina poet’s household?and that they are notsuitable in ours?[Note: ‘A poet’s household’ is more litterally one ‘dedicated to the Muses.’]

The sheep, the goat, back to the welcome fold;Thou bring’st the child, too, to his mother’s side

Whose ears thy tongue’s sweet melodyMay still devour.Thou smilest too!–sweet smile, whose charmHas struck my soul with wild alarm,And, when I see thee, bids disarmEach vital power.Speechless I gaze: the flame withinRuns swift o’er all my quivering skin:My eyeballs swim; with dizzy dinMy brain reels round;And cold drops fall; and tremblings frailSeize every limb; and…

Hearing thy lovely laugh, thy speech,Throned with the gods he seems to me;For when a moment to mine eyesThy form discloses, silentlyI stand consumed with fires that riseLike flames around a sacrifice.Sight have I none, bells out of tuneRing in mine ears, my tongue lies dumb;Paler than grass in later June,Yet daring all(To thee I…

listening from closeby to the sweetness of yourvoice as you talk, thesweetness of your laughter: yes, that–I swear it–sets the heart to shaking inside my breast, sinceonce I look at you for a moment, I can’tspeak any longer,but my tongue breaks down, and then all at once asubtle fire races inside my skin, myeyes can’t…

can’t finish myweavingYou mayblame Aphroditesoft as she isshe has almostkilled me withlove for that boySapphotr. Barnard