A GENTLE shepherd, born in Arcady, That well could tune his pipe, and deftly play The nymphs asleep with rural minstrelsy, Methought I saw, upon a summer's day, Take up a little satyr in a wood, All masterless forlorn as none did know him, And nursing him with those of his own blood, On mighty Pan he lastly did bestow him; But with the god he long time had not been, Ere he the shepherd and himself forgot, And most ingrateful, ever stepp'd between Pan and all good befell the poor man's lot: Whereat all good men griev'd, and strongly swore They never would be foster-fathers more. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DILIGENCE IS TO MAGIC AS PROGRESS IS TO FLIGHT by MARIANNE MOORE GASCOIGNE'S GOOD MORROW by GEORGE GASCOIGNE LAURENCE BLOOMFIELD IN IRELAND: 2. FINLAY by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: 7. OF HOSPITALITY by WILLIAM BASSE TICKER TAPE by ELIZABETH KELTY BEITEL THE HEART'S COLLOQUY by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |