Classic Poem

The smiling Dawn, with diadem of dew,
Brings sunrise odors to perfume his shrine;
Blithe Zephyr fans him; and soft moonbeams twine
An aureole to crown him, of a hue,
Surpassing fair. The stately stars renew
Majestic measures, that he may incline
His soul unto their sweetness; whispers fine
From spirit-nymphs allure him; not a few
The gifts chaste Fancy and her sisters bring.
Rare is the lyre the Muses for him wrought,
A different meaning thrills in ev'ry string,
With ev'ry changing mood of life so fraught.
Invoked by him, when such the strains that flow,
How can the poet e'er his song forego!