TO THE TETTIX.
A kind of grasshopper, much honoured
by the Greeks.
O Tettix! drunk with drops of dew,
What magician equals you
In the rural solitude?
On a perch amidst the wood
Scraping to your heart's desire
Dusky sides with notchy feet,
Shrilling, thrilling, fast and sweet,
Like the music of a lyre.
O my Tettix! I entreat,
Sing the Dryads something new;
So from thick-embower'd seat
Pan himself may answer you,
Till every inmost glade rejoices
With your loud alternate voices;
And I listen, and forget
All the thorns, the doubts and fears,
Love in lover's heart may set,—
Listen, and forget them all.
And so, with music in mine ears,
Where the plane-tree shadows steep
The ground with freshness, gently fall
Into a noontide sleep.
