Classic Poem

(Found on the Poet's desk.)

Weary, I open wide the antique pane
I ope to the air
I ope to
I open to the air the antique pane
And gaze {beyond?/across} the thrift-sown fields of wheat, [commonplace?]
A-shimmering green in breezes born of heat;
And lo!
And high
And my soul's eyes behold {a?/the} billowy main
Whose further shore is Greece strain
again
vain
[Arcadia — mythological allusion. — Mem.: Lempriere.]
I see thee, Atalanta, vestal fleet,
And look! with doves low-fluttering round her feet,
Comes Venus through the golden {fields of?/bowing} grain

(Heard by the Poet's neighbor.)

Venus be bothered — it's Virginia Dix!