 | Silenus |  |
“You may perversely close your eyes from light,
In feigning bluntness to a plain intent;
But now my meaning you shall not mistake.
An easier task it were to make a doe
Feed upon garbage than to spirit me
By flatteries rank within thy loathly arms.
A nymph am I perfect in life; and pure
As any flower breathing its native air.
The wind and streams, the sparkling summer showers
That waken laughter in delighted leaves,
And music from the flowery grass, have been
Companions I have loved from infancy;
And tuneful songsters from my fingers feed.
Why should I leave this fair Elysian world
For horror, darkness, and my own contempt?”
In feigning bluntness to a plain intent;
But now my meaning you shall not mistake.
7
Feed upon garbage than to spirit me
By flatteries rank within thy loathly arms.
A nymph am I perfect in life; and pure
As any flower breathing its native air.
The wind and streams, the sparkling summer showers
That waken laughter in delighted leaves,
And music from the flowery grass, have been
Companions I have loved from infancy;
And tuneful songsters from my fingers feed.
Why should I leave this fair Elysian world
For horror, darkness, and my own contempt?”
| Silenus | |