Classic Poem

O RPHEUS , of old, as poets tell,
Took a fantastic trip to hell,
To seek his Wife — as wisely guessing,
She must be there, since she was missing.
Downward he journey'd, wond'rous gay,
And, like a lark, sang all the way ;
The reason was, or they bely'd him,
His yoke-fellow was not beside him.
Whole grottoes, as he pass'd along,
Danc'd to the music of his song.
So have I seen, upon the plains,
A fiddler captivate the swains,
And make them caper to his strains.
To Pluto's court at last he came,
Where the god sat enthron'd in flame,
And ask'd if his lost love was there,
E URYDICE , his darling fair ?
The fiends, who list'ning round him stood,
At the odd question laugh'd aloud —
" This must some mortal madman be,
" We fiends are happier far than he. "
But music 's sounds o'er hell prevail ;
Most mournfully he tells his tale,
Sooths with soft arts the monarch's pain,
And gets his bargain back again —
" Thy pray'rs are heard, " grim Pluto cries,
" On this condition take thy prize —
" Turn not thine eyes upon the fair,
" If once thou turn'st, she flies in air. "
In am'rous chat they climb th' ascent,
Orpheus, as order'd, foremost went ;
(Tho' when two lovers downwards steer,
The man, as fit, falls in the rear.)
Soon the fond fool turns back his head,
Assoon in air his spouse was fled.
If 'twas design'd, 'twas wond'rous well ;
But, if by chance, more lucky still.
Happy the man, all must agree,
Who once from wedlock's noose gets free ;
But he who from it twice is freed,
Has most prodigious luck indeed !