Classic Poem

( " Orphee au bois du Caystre. " )

Orpheus, in Cayster's tangled
Woodways, 'neath the stars' pale light,
Listened laughters weird and jangled
Of the viewless ones of night.

Phtas, the Theban sibyl, dreaming
Nigh the hushed Phygalian heights,
Saw on far horizon streaming
Ebon forms 'mong silvery lights.

Æschylus, soft hazes threading
Of sweet Sicily, soul-subdued
Wandered beneath moonbeams shedding
Mellow flute-notes through the wood.

Pliny, lo! — high thoughts denying
For Miletus' nymphs most fair, —
Dainty rosy limbs espying,
Begs a boon on the amorous air.

Plautus, nigh Viterbo, straying
Through the orchard-bowers sun-bright,
In each palm gold fruit is weighing
Such as gods rejoiced to bite.

Ah, Versailles! Haunt most delightful!
Faunus there, one foot i' the wave,
While Boileau waxed shrill and spiteful,
Golden rhymes to Moliere gave.

Dante sombre-souled, abiding
Scatheless in the deepest hell,
Turned to watch fair women gliding
Thro' the boughs 'neath eve's calm spell.

Chenier, under willows sleeping,
Saw in dream a vision sweet:
Lovely lasses laughing, weeping,
For whom Virgil's heart quick-beat.

Shakespeare, watching 'neath the lazy
Branches of the forest-lord,
Heard, while blusht each meadow-daisy,
Fairy-trippings o'er green sward.

O deep woodlands soul-entrancing,
Haunted yet by Gods are ye!
Yet the goat-foot Satyr's dancing
To Pan's rustic melody!