Classic Poem

Th' event worse than the omen; as his bride
Troops with the Naiades by Hebrus' side
A serpent bit her by the heel, which forced
Life from her hold and nuptial ties divorced.
Whom when the Thracian poet had above
Enough bewailed, that his complaints might move
The under shades, by Tenarus descends
To Stygian floods; and his bold steps extends,
By airy shapes and fleeting souls that boast
Of sepulture, through that unpleasant coast
To Pluto's court; when, having tuned his strings,
Thus to his harp the godlike poet sings:
"You pow'rs that sway the world beneath the earth,
The last abode of all our human birth,
If we the truth without offence may tell,
I come not hither to discover hell,
Nor bind that scowling cur who barking shakes
About his triple brows Medusa's snakes.
My wife this journey urged, who by the tooth
Of trod-on viper perished in her youth.
I would, and strov t' have borne her loss, but Love
Won in that strife--a god well-known above,
Nor here perhaps unknown. If truly fame
Report old rapes, you also felt his flame.
By these obscure abodes so full of dread,
By this huge chaos and deep silence spread
Through your vast empire, by these prayers of mine,
Eurydice's too-hasty fate untwine.
We all are yours, and after a short stay,
Early or late we all must run one way.
Hither we throng for our last home assigned,
Th' eternal habitation of mankind.
She, when her time by nature shall expire,
Again is yours; I but the use desire.
If Fate deny me this, my second choice
Is here t' abide: in both our deaths rejoice,'
While thus he sung and struck the quavering strings,
The bloodless shadows wept; nor flattering springs
Tempt Tantalus, Ixion's wheel stood still,
Their urn the Belides no longer fill,
The vultures feed not, Tityus left to groan,
And Sisyphus sat list'ning on his stone.
The Furies, vanquished by his verse, were seen
To weep, that never wept before. Hell's Queen,
The King of Darkness yield t' his pow'rful plea.
Among the late-come souls Eurydice
They call; she came, yet halting of her wound;
Given Orpheus with this law: "Till thou the bound
Of pale Avernus pass, if back thou cast
Thy careful eyes thou losest what thou hast.'
A steep ascent, dark, thick with fogs, they climb
Through everlasting silence; by this time
Approach the confines of illustrious light.
Fearing to lose and longing for a sight,
His eyes th' impatient lover backward threw,
When she, back-sliding, presently withdrew.
He catches at her, in his wits distraught,
And yielding air for her (unhappy!) caught.
Nor did she, dying twice, her spouse reprove,
For what could she complain of but his love?