Classic Poem

THE HARPY

The mead and honey, day by day
By Gods brought for thy lips to touch,
O princess, well bestowed were they,
And they have profited thee much.

THE PANDARIDE

Not honey alone, nor only mead,
But wisdom from the Gods was mine,
O Harpy, thus I do noTheed
At all those bitter scoffs of thine.

What could the Gods do more than this?
They shut their darlings in strong towers,
Atherie her craft-mistresses
Made us, all Hera's boons were ours.

Yet ever in this glad estate
This was the tale we heard them tell;
Gods are we, kind and fortunate;
Death, Care, and Pain, are Gods as well.

We honour, as is just and meet,
Their rightful sway, nor dare encroach,
Though many a breaking heart entreat,
And many an upcast eye reproach.

This on our loved we may bestow
Alone, to love us still, and bear,
Even if the Erinnys rend, although
The Harpy snatch them through the air.