I A SATYR spied a Goddess in her bath, Unseen of her attendant nymphs; none knew. Forthwith the creature to his fellows drew, And looking backward on the curtained path, He strove to tell; he could but heave a breast Too full, and point to mouth, with failing leers: Vainly he danced for speech, he giggled tears, Made as if torn in two, as if tight pressed, As if cast prone; then fetching whimpered tunes For words, flung heel and set his hairy flight Through forest-hollows, over rocky height. The green leaves buried him three rounds of moons. A senatorial Satyr named what herb Had hurried him outrunning reason's curb. II 'Tis told how when that hieaway unchecked To dell returned, he seemed of tempered mood: Even as the valley of the torrent rude, The torrent now a brook, the valley wrecked. In him, to hale him high or hurl aheap, Goddess and Goatfoot hourly wrestled sore; Hourly the immortal prevailing more: Till one hot noon saw Meliboeus peep From thicket-sprays to where his full-blown dame, In circle by the lusty friskers gripped, Laughed the showered rose-leaves while her limbs were stripped. She beckoned to our Satyr, and he came. Then twirled she mounds of ripeness, wreath of arms. His hoof kicked up the clothing for such charms. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOR MY OWN TOMBSTONE by MATTHEW PRIOR THE LAW OF THE YUKON by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE DAFFODILS by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH HARMONIE DU SOIR by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE THE FASHION by JOSEPH BEAUMONT THE TREE ACROSS THE ROAD by ELIZABETH KELTY BEITEL |