BY me in my fresh prime did Cypris stand, Leading the child Love in her lovely hand; He kept his eyes fixt, downcast on the ground, While in mine ears his mother's words did sound:— "Dear herdsman, take and teach for me, I pray, Eros to sing;" she said, and went her way. Him, as one fain to learn, without ado I then began to teach whate'er I knew— Fool that I was! how first great Pan did suit With numerous tones his new-invented flute; Athene wise the straight pipe's reedy hollow; Hermes his shell; his cithern sweet Apollo. I taught him this; he heeded not my lore, But sang me his love-ditties evermore— His mother's doings—how Immortals yearn With fond desires, and how poor mortals burn. All I taught Eros I have quite forgot; But his love-ditties—I forget them not. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WORLD AS WILL AND REPRESENTATION' by HAYDEN CARRUTH IF IT WERE NOT FOR YOU by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE EXISTING POOL by HAYDEN CARRUTH ON THE INFLATION OF THE CURRENCY, 1919 by ROBERT FROST THE SEMANTICS OF FLOWERS ON MEMORIAL DAY by BOB HICOK THE FEAST OF LIGHTS by EMMA LAZARUS MERELY STATEMENT by AMY LOWELL |