Climb with me, Laomedon's white fleeces, Upward to the hilltops, up to Ida, To unshaded dews and earliest dawning. Young and lustrous, god and yet a servant, As a star past rock and stream I climb. Raise your heads erect, ye flocks, and listen To the note I strike from off my lyre! They have heard, they stand each head erected; Thus they wait the Grazing-Tune that woos Slowly to the ridges and the sky. I have struck it: all submissive listen, Till they feed in mystery, advancing, Drawn to solemn paces by a spell; Then to sharper strains one way they hurry, Fleece by fleece around me, till I strike Sweet, soft notes that lay them down to slumber, I beside them, where the sun no more Falls across us, but the chilling moonlight: There we sleep, my flock and I together, I, a god, though servant of a king. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VIGNETTES OVERSEAS: 2. OFF ALGIERS by SARA TEASDALE THE PATRIOT; AN OLD STORY by ROBERT BROWNING DON JUAN: DEDICATION [OR, INVOCATION] by GEORGE GORDON BYRON ELIOT'S OAK; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 50. WILLOWWOOD (2) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE PRAIRIE-GRASS DIVIDING by WALT WHITMAN |