Classic Poem

Beneath Cithaeron's briery flank is made
A rock-ribbed den, to blaze resplendent there,
With golden eyes and breast divinely fair,
The virgin eagle-winged whom none has swayed.

The Man stops at the threshold dazed. — What shade
Makes gloomier still my cavern's gloomy air?
— Love. — Art the God? — The Hero, I. — Then dare;
But thou seek'st death; canst now be unafraid? —

I can; Bellerophon slew the monster dire.
— Come not. — Thou know'st my mouth sets thine on fire
— Come, then! Between mine arms thy bones I'll maim,

My talons tear thy flesh... — What's agony,
If I have raped thy kiss and conquered fame?
— Thy conquest's vain, thou diest — O ecstasy!...