The Epitaph Of Bion.
Dolefully sound, ye groves and Dorian waters,
Lament, ye rivers, our beloved Bion;
Mourn, all ye plants, and whisper low, ye forests;
Ye flowers, breathe sadly from your drooping petals;
Put on deep red, anemones and roses;
Wail thine own letters, hyacinth, and ai ai
Write double on thy leaves for our sweet poet.
Begin the grief, begin, Sicilian Muses.
Ye nightingales, in the thick leafage sobbing,
Tell the Sicilian streams of Arethusa
Bion is dead, the shepherd--boy, and with him
Song too is dead, and all the Dorian music.
Begin the grief, begin, Sicilian Muses.
Strymonian swans, sing sadly by your waters;
Warble a funeral elegy, in ditties
Such as he sung, the rival of your voices.
Tell the Œagrian Nymphs, and tell the damsels
That play in Thrace, Dead is the Dorian Orpheus.
Begin the grief, begin, Sicilian Muses.
Our friend shall pipe beside his flocks no longer,
Nor sit and sing alone beneath the ilex;
But tunes oblivious strains to sullen Pluto.
Mute are the mountains, and the herd is straying
And will not feed, but wanders sadly lowing.
Begin the grief, begin, Sicilian Muses.
Thine early death lamented great Apollo,
Pan wept to miss thy singing, all the Naiads
Wept in their woods, and turned to tears their fountains;
Echo is weeping that she must be silent
Thy lips no longer mocking. At thy parting
Trees shed their fruit, and all the flowers were blighted;
Milk failed the flocks, and in our hives the honey
Sunk mouldering in the wax; for no more sweetness
Shall there be, now thy honey--song hath perished.
Begin the grief, begin, Sicilian Muses.
Not so beside the sea--beach wailed the dolphin,
Nor nightingale in shrubby rocks embowered,
Nor on the long green hills the piping swallow;
Not so for his Alcyone wept Ceÿx;
Nor Cerylus along the dark--blue waters;
Not so in Eastern dells the birds of Memnon
Wailed, flying round his tomb, the son of Ao,
As all lamented for the death of Bion.
Begin the grief, begin, Sicilian Muses.
Shepherd, with thee the Muses' gifts have perished--
All beauty, and the joy of youthful lovers--
Sadly the Loves around thy tomb are weeping:
Cypris hath loved thee better than the memory
Of the last kiss she prest on pale Adonis.
Begin the grief, begin, Sicilian Muses.
Thou tunefullest of streams, a second sorrow,
A second sorrow, Meles, hath befallen;
Thy Homer died, sweet prophet of the Muses;
And then, they say, thy glorious son thou wailest
Along thy shallows, and far into ocean
Carriedst the sound of grief: and now another
Must thou lament, and dry away for anguish.
Both were beloved by fountains: one was favoured
Of Hippocrene, and one of Arethusa;
One sung the lay of Tyndarus' fair daughter,
The son of Thetis, and the twin Atreidae;
But ours no wars, nor tears--the god of shepherds
And herdsmen sung he, as his flock he tended,
And bound the syrinx, and milked the sweet--breathed heifers,
And spake of Love, and was dear to Aphrodita.
Begin the grief, begin, Sicilian Muses.
All countries mourn for thee, all ancient cities:
Not so mourned Ascra for her Shepherd--prophet;
Not so the castled Lesbos for Alcaeus;
Nor Ceos her old songster; not so Paros
Archilochus desires; and leaving Sappho
Thy legend sings the widowed Mitylene.
Begin the grief, begin, Sicilian Muses.
Alas! when mallows perish in the gardens,
The crisp--green parsley, and the hardy anise,
They live again, and grow another summer;
But we, the great and strong, the sons of wisdom,
When first we die, unknown in earthy hollow
Sleep a long boundless sleep, that hath no waking.
Thou shalt be gathered to the dust in silence,
But sorry songsters live and sing for ever:
Well have the Muses ordered it, for better
Sing sweet and die, than be like them immortal.
Begin the grief, begin, Sicilian Muses.
Poison hath touched thy mouth, a draught of poison;--
How came it to thy lips and was not sweetened?
What man so cruel that for thee could mingle,
Or offering it escaped uncharmed thy singing?
Begin the grief, begin Sicilian Muses.
Who now shall sound thy reed, beloved poet?
Who is so bold that to his lips will bear it?
To Pan I offer it; but Pan refuses
To wake its melody, lest he in playing
Should miss thy skill, and be adjudged thy second.
poem by Henry Alford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Another Day
What seems like such a winter's tale
Lightening runs through the fallen flames
By kneeling down we're here to pray
At that point forsaken unafraid
I only wanna feel you being strong
I only wanna feel you being strong
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Feel my breath go cold and calm
My pride is last and I sin again
And all the seasons change their scent
A year of hell they come against my head once more
I only wanna feel you being strong
I only wanna feel you being strong
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
INSTRUMENTAL
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Another Day
What seems like such a winter's tale
Lightening runs through the fallen flames
By kneeling down we're here to pray
At that point forsaken unafraid
I only wanna feel you being strong
I only wanna feel you being strong
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Feel my breath go cold and calm
My pride is last and I sin again
And all the seasons change their scent
A year of hell they come against my head once more
I only wanna feel you being strong
I only wanna feel you being strong
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
INSTRUMENTAL
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
You Begin Again
Sometimes it's hard to believe
How simple life can be
Just when you think
You'll never reach the end
You're finally round the bend and see
There's no need to cry anymore
Life's better than before
Yesterday fades away into the past
The pain you thought would last
Is gone
[Chorus:]
And you begin again
Sometimes you lose, sometimes you win
But you begin again
Even though you're heart is breaking
In time, the sun will shine
And you'll begin again
You'll begin again
Life's bittersweet mystery
Never tells what will be
You can create your own reality
And make your dreams come true
It's really up to you
If you begin again
Sometimes you lose, sometimes you win
But you begin again
Even though your heart is breaking
In time, the sun will shine
And you'll begin again
You'll begin again
When you begin again
[Chorus]
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Let The Day Begin
Released on cd single have I told you lately, 1993
(michael been)
Heres to the babies in a brandnew world
Heres to the beauty and the stars
Heres to the travellers on open road
Heres to the dreamers in the bars
Heres to the teachers in the crowded rooms
Heres to the workers in the field
Heres to the preachers of the sacred world
Heres to the drivers on the wheel
Heres to you my little love
With blessings from above
Now let the day begin
Heres to you my little love
With blessings from above
Now let the day begin, (let) the day begin, ha
Heres to the winners of the human race
Heres to the losers in the game
Heres to the soldiers of the bitter war
Heres to the war that bears their name
Heres to you my little love
With blessings from above
Now let the day begin, the day begin, the day ( )
Heres to the doctors in the healing world
Heres to the loved ones in their care
Heres to the strangers on the streets tonight
Heres to the lonely everywhere
Heres to the wisdom from ( )
Heres to the lions in their cage
Heres to the struggle of the ( )
Heres to the clothing of the age
Heres to you my little love
With blessings from above
Now let the day begin
Heres to you my little love
With blessings from above
Now let the day begin, the day begin
Heres to you my little love
With blessings from above
Now let the day begin, let the day begin, let the day, oh yeah
Now let the day begin, oh yeah
Heres to you my little love
With blessings from above
Now let the day begin, let the day begin, let the day, ( )
Oh yeah
Yeah
Come on
Come on
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Death of Daphnis
THYRSIS.
Sweet are the whispers of yon pine that makes
Low music o'er the spring, and, Goatherd, sweet
Thy piping; second thou to Pan alone.
Is his the horned ram? then thine the goat.
Is his the goat? to thee shall fall the kid;
And toothsome is the flesh of unmilked kids.
GOATHERD.
Shepherd, thy lay is as the noise of streams
Falling and falling aye from yon tall crag.
If for their meed the Muses claim the ewe,
Be thine the stall-fed lamb; or if they choose
The lamb, take thou the scarce less-valued ewe.
THYRSIS.
Pray, by the Nymphs, pray, Goatherd, seat thee here
Against this hill-slope in the tamarisk shade,
And pipe me somewhat, while I guard thy goats.
GOATHERD.
I durst not, Shepherd, O I durst not pipe
At noontide; fearing Pan, who at that hour
Rests from the toils of hunting. Harsh is he;
Wrath at his nostrils aye sits sentinel.
But, Thyrsis, thou canst sing of Daphnis' woes;
High is thy name for woodland minstrelsy:
Then rest we in the shadow of the elm
Fronting Priapus and the Fountain-nymphs.
There, where the oaks are and the Shepherd's seat,
Sing as thou sang'st erewhile, when matched with him
Of Libya, Chromis; and I'll give thee, first,
To milk, ay thrice, a goat-she suckles twins,
Yet ne'ertheless can fill two milkpails full;-
Next, a deep drinking-cup, with sweet wax scoured,
Two-handled, newly-carven, smacking yet
0' the chisel. Ivy reaches up and climbs
About its lip, gilt here and there with sprays
Of woodbine, that enwreathed about it flaunts
Her saffron fruitage. Framed therein appears
A damsel ('tis a miracle of art)
In robe and snood: and suitors at her side
With locks fair-flowing, on her right and left,
Battle with words, that fail to reach her heart.
She, laughing, glances now on this, flings now
Her chance regards on that: they, all for love
Wearied and eye-swoln, find their labour lost.
Carven elsewhere an ancient fisher stands
On the rough rocks: thereto the old man with pains
Drags his great casting-net, as one that toils
Full stoutly: every fibre of his frame
Seems fishing; so about the gray-beard's neck
(In might a youngster yet) the sinews swell.
Hard by that wave-beat sire a vineyard bends
Beneath its graceful load of burnished grapes;
A boy sits on the rude fence watching them.
Near him two foxes: down the rows of grapes
One ranging steals the ripest; one assails
With wiles the poor lad's scrip, to leave him soon
Stranded and supperless. He plaits meanwhile
With ears of corn a right fine cricket-trap,
And fits it on a rush: for vines, for scrip,
Little he cares, enamoured of his toy.
The cup is hung all round with lissom briar,
Triumph of Æolian art, a wondrous sight.
It was a ferryman's of Calydon:
A goat it cost me, and a great white cheese.
Ne'er yet my lips came near it, virgin still
It stands. And welcome to such boon art thou,
If for my sake thou'lt sing that lay of lays.
I jest not: up, lad, sing: no songs thou'lt own
In the dim land where all things are forgot.
THYSIS [sings].
Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song.
The voice of Thyrsis. Ætna's Thyrsis I.
Where were ye, Nymphs, oh where, while Daphnis pined?
In fair Peneus' or in Pindus' glens?
For great Anapus' stream was not your haunt,
Nor Ætna's cliff, nor Acis' sacred rill.
Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song.
O'er him the wolves, the jackals howled o'er him;
The lion in the oak-copse mourned his death.
Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song.
The kine and oxen stood around his feet,
The heifers and the calves wailed all for him.
Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song.
First from the mountain Hermes came, and said,
'Daphnis, who frets thee? Lad, whom lov'st thou so?'
Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song.
Came herdsmen, shepherds came, and goatherds came;
All asked what ailed the lad. Priapus came
And said, 'Why pine, poor Daphnis? while the maid
Foots it round every pool and every grove,
(Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song)
'O lack-love and perverse, in quest of thee;
Herdsman in name, but goatherd rightlier called.
With eyes that yearn the goatherd marks his kids
Run riot, for he fain would frisk as they:
(Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song):
'With eyes that yearn dost thou too mark the laugh
Of maidens, for thou may'st not share their glee.'
Still naught the herdsman said: he drained alone
His bitter portion, till the fatal end.
Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song.
Came Aphrodite, smiles on her sweet face,
False smiles, for heavy was her heart, and spake:
'So, Daphnis, thou must try a fall with Love!
But stalwart Love hath won the fall of thee.'
Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song.
Then 'Ruthless Aphrodite,' Daphnis said,
'Accursed Aphrodite, foe to man!
Say'st thou mine hour is come, my sun hath set?
Dead as alive, shall Daphnis work Love woe.'
Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song.
'Fly to Mount Ida, where the swain (men say)
And Aphrodite-to Anchises fly:
There are oak-forests; here but galingale,
And bees that make a music round the hives.
Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song.
'Adonis owed his bloom to tending flocks
And smiting hares, and bringing wild beasts down.
Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song.
'Face once more Diomed: tell him 'I have slain
The herdsman Daphnis; now I challenge thee.'
Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song.
'Farewell, wolf, jackal, mountain-prisoned bear!
Ye'll see no more by grove or glade or glen
Your herdsman Daphnis! Arethuse, farewell,
And the bright streams that pour down Thymbris' side.
Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song.
'I am that Daphnis, who lead here my kine,
Bring here to drink my oxen and my calves.
Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song.
'Pan, Pan, oh whether great Lyceum's crags
Thou haunt'st to-day, or mightier Maenalus,
Come to the Sicel isle! Abandon now
Rhium and Helice, and the mountain-cairn
(That e'en gods cherish) of Lycaon's son!
Forget, sweet Maids, forget your woodland song.
'Come, king of song, o'er this my pipe, compact
With wax and honey-breathing, arch thy lip:
For surely I am torn from life by Love.
Forget, sweet Maids, forget your woodland song.
'From thicket now and thorn let violets spring,
Now let white lilies drape the juniper,
And pines grow figs, and nature all go wrong:
For Daphnis dies. Let deer pursue the hounds,
And mountain-owls outsing the nightingale.
Forget, sweet Maids, forget your woodland song.'
So spake he, and he never spake again.
Fain Aphrodite would have raised his head;
But all his thread was spun. So down the stream
Went Daphnis: closed the waters o'er a head
Dear to the Nine, of nymphs not unbeloved.
Now give me goat and cup; that I may milk
The one, and pour the other to the Muse.
Fare ye well, Muses, o'er and o'er farewell!
I'll sing strains lovelier yet in days to be.
GOATHERD.
Thyrsis, let honey and the honeycomb
Fill thy sweet mouth, and figs of Ægilus:
For ne'er cicala trilled so sweet a song.
Here is the cup: mark, friend, how sweet it smells:
The Hours, thou'lt say, have washed it in their well.
Hither, Cissaetha! Thou, go milk her! Kids,
Be steady, or your pranks will rouse the ram.
poem by Theocritus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Waking
WAKING
There are so many dreams no one ever realizes
We wake and try to understand where we are
What we have done in all the years seems folly
Nothing can justify this morning or the day to come
We have forgotten who we are and where we have been
The prayer that helps us and connects us back to God
Revives
We begin to live or try to begin to live
Our names are not known and our work uncelebrated
Our songs are not sung and our labors not blessed
We look out and up at the sky and feel light
We do not know how or why or in what way
But we understand that God has given mornings to begin again
We will take the first step and word and taste and sound
And all we feel and be will begin to revive
We will connect ourselves again with where we are
We will begin to work
And as the day slowly comes back to us we will come back to ourselves
Every day is a new beginning and a world G-d will make
We too are that world and that beginning
In all the many days of blessings and the years of this life
God has enabled us to begin again
This time now too is now different
And these words say we are here now for this morning
So long as this morning is in us.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Child Within
She loved the man
Who stayed the night
That made the child
Lord it seemed so right
Her mamma cried
And her daddy swore
It nearly broke her heart
She needed so much more
Life begin oh child within
Life begin a child within
Who can say
Why lovers part
Shell always keep a place for him
Inside her heart
He writes a bit
And people seem sincere
But she wished theyd call it more than
Just a souvenir
Life begin a child within
Life begin a child within
She fell in love
Was that a crime
Shes not a bad girl
But you know it happens all the time
You give yourself
To the one you love
Tomorrow heartbreak
You never dream of
Life begin a child within
Life begin a child within
Life begin a child within
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
To Begin the Ending of What?
The lines for battle
Have already been drawn.
And those committed,
With pledges to defeat...
Enemies to conquer and win.
For the purposes of a victory,
To boast about with upheld chins.
May come to do it.
But what has been proven?
That this can be done,
Again and again.
To begin the ending of what?
A satisfaction?
Blissed without distractions?
Or a race of one people...
Who already show they know nothing,
But expressions of hatred.
To begin the ending of what?
To begin the ending of what?
To begin the ending of what?
To begin the ending,
Of what?
Demented beings?
Lost and powerless...
Against programmed machines.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fragment Of The Elegy On The Death Of Bion
From the Greek of Moschus.
Ye Dorian woods and waves, lament aloud,--
Augment your tide, O streams, with fruitless tears,
For the beloved Bion is no more.
Let every tender herb and plant and flower,
From each dejected bud and drooping bloom,
Shed dews of liquid sorrow, and with breath
Of melancholy sweetness on the wind
Diffuse its languid love; let roses blush,
Anemones grow paler for the loss
Their dells have known; and thou, O hyacinth,
Utter thy legend now--yet more, dumb flower,
Than 'Ah! alas!'--thine is no common grief--
Bion the [sweetest singer] is no more.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When a Friend Is Dying
When a friend is dying,
then we begin to think
of life's injustice when
the one we love has to
be taken away from us.
When a friend is dying,
then we begin to see
how fragile life is
that at a wink of an eye
it disappears and dies.
When a friend is dying,
then we begin to
collect memories
of the time we've shared
and in our hearts we treasure.
When a friend is dying,
then we begin to fetch
strength and hope
from the scriptures
of our own religion.
When a friend is dying,
we shed tears and find
comfort in the embrace
and presence of all those
who with us also mourn.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Spring Song III
HERE'S the Spring-time, Sweet!
Earth's green gown is new,
Lambs begin to bleat,
Doves begin to coo,
Birds begin to woo
In the wood and lane;
Sweet, the tale is true
Spring is here again!
I have been discreet
All the winter through;
Now, before your feet,
Blossoms let me strew.
Flowers, as yet, are few;
Will my lady deign
Take this flower or two?
Spring is here again
Make the year complete,
Give the Spring her due!
All the flowers entreat,
All the song-birds sue.
'Twixt the green and blue
Let Love wake and reign,
Let me worship you--
Spring is here again!
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Begin - to begin is half the work, let half still remain; again begin this, and thou wilt have finished.
quote by Marcus Aurelius
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Spring Did Begin (Rondelet)
Spring did begin
with lovely flowers blossoming,
spring did begin
with cheerful insects rushing in
with small butterflies fluttering
with joyful lovely birds that sing,
spring did begin.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Where You End
Are beyond your control
I love you and you're beautiful
You write your own songs
But if the right part is leaving
Turned out to be wrong
If I could kiss you now
I'd kiss you now again and again
I don't know where I begin
And where you end
Thought I fell in love the other day
With an old friend of mine
I was running kisses
Down every inch of the spine
We had the roof down
The sun came shining in
The black fact is...
that I was thinking of you
If I could kiss you now
I'd kiss you now again and again
I don't know where I begin
And where you End
I slept in the sun the other day
I thought I was fine
Everything seemed perfect
Until I had you on my mind
I tried to love you
I did all that I could
I wish that the bad now
And finally turned into good
If I could kiss you now
I'd kiss you now again and again
I don't know where I begin
And where you End
If I could kiss you now..
If I could kiss you now..
If I could kiss you now..
Oh where you end,
Is where I begin.
Oh where you end
Oh where you end
Oh where you end
song performed by by Moby
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Begin -- to begin is half the work, let half still remain; again begin this, and thou wilt have finished.
I Believe in Muses
Nine to the Universe, the Nine Divine
I believe in Muses, Inspire me to dream sublime
Empress Omega, Betty Shabazz, Nzinga all of the Queens
I believe in Muses, Inspire me to achieve impossible dreams
Your sepia back, so strong and beautiful as obsidian
I believe in Muses, Inspire me to search where truth is hidden
Thighs, eyes, hips and lips, I desire you body and soul
I believe in Muses, Inspire me to an orgasmic loss of self control
Your beauty has inspired men to create, to build, to rise
I believe in Muses, Inspire me to be a King in your eyes
poem by Vince Rogers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To Begin With
to begin with
he smiles and they begin to like him
because he is contagious
his smile travels from one place to another
like the way the butterfly hovers from one flower
another flower in the garden of
peace and quiet
to begin with
he keeps a hold on something that makes him happy
despite the odds
despite the fact that it is his own house that is burning
despite the fact that all the bridges going to his place have all been broken
to begin with
he is naked and he has nothing to cover himself anymore
to begin with
he is foremost his own being
and it is only this that all of them cannot take anymore
and so he keeps the promise
to maintain this emptiness so they may all become full
and guilty and sad.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
She Is Rising
Those pretty feet are stuck deep in the ground
And all that junk just keeps coming
Must be the time to rearrange it all
Another place another time has called
She is rising above this world
She is heading for an open door
She is rising above this world
She is heading for an open door
Give it up let her in
All she wants is to begin
Give it up let her in
All she wants is to begin
One day he wakes up to a different drum
Rhythm coming from so far away
He had no time to tell anyone
His hips were moving to a perfect sway
He is rising above this world
He is heading for an open door
He is rising above this world
He is heading for an open door
Give it up let him in
All he wants is to begin
Give it up let him in
All he wants is to begin
Give it up let her in
All she wants is to begin
She is rising above this world
She is heading for an open door
Give it up let her in
All she wants is to begin
Give it up let her in
All she wants is to begin
Give it up (she is rising)
Let him in (he is rising)
All he wants is to begin (all I want is to begin)
Give it up (she is rising)
Let him in (he is rising)
All he wants is to begin (all he wants is to begin)
She is rising
He is rising
All I want
All I want is to begin
She is rising
He is rising
Give it up
We are rising
She is rising
She is rising
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Aglaia: a Pastoral
Sylvan Muses, can ye sing
Of the beauty of the Spring?
Have ye seen on earth that sun
That a heavenly course hath run?
Have ye lived to see those eyes
Where the pride of beauty lies?
Have ye heard that heavenly voice
That may make Love's heart rejoice?
Have ye seen Aglaia, she
Whom the world may joy to see?
If ye have not seen all these,
Then ye do but labour leese;
While ye tune your pipes to play
But an idle roundelay;
And in sad Discomfort's den
Everyone go bite her pen;
That she cannot reach the skill
How to climb that blessed hill
Where Aglaia's fancies dwell,
Where exceedings do excell,
And in simple truth confess
She is that fair shepherdess
To whom fairest flocks a-field
Do their service duly yield:
On whom never Muse hath gazèd
But in musing is amazèd;
Where the honour is too much
For their highest thoughts to touch;
Thus confess, and get ye gone
To your places every one;
And in silence only speak
When ye find your speech too weak.
Blessèd be Aglaia yet,
Though the Muses die for it;
Come abroad, ye blessèd Muses,
Ye that Pallas chiefly chooses,
When she would command a creature
In the honour of Love's nature,
For the sweet Aglaia fair
All to sweeten all the air,
Is abroad this blessèd day;
Haste ye, therefore, come away:
And to kill Love's maladies
Meet her with your melodies.
Flora hath been all about,
And hath brought her wardrobe out;
With her fairest, sweetest flowers,
All to trim up all your bowers.
Bid the shepherds and their swains
See the beauty of their plains;
And command them with their flocks
To do reverence on the rocks;
Where they may so happy be
As her shadow but to see:
Bid the birds in every bush
Not a bird to be at hush:
But to sit, and chirp, and sing
To the beauty of the Spring:
Call the sylvan nymphs together,
Bid them bring their musicks hither.
Trees their barky silence break,
Crack yet, though they cannot speak
Bid the purest, whitest swan
Of her feathers make her fan;
Let the hound the hare go chase;
Lambs and rabbits run at base;
Flies be dancing in the sun,
While the silk-worm's webs are spun;
Hang a fish on every hook
As she goes along the brook;
So with all your sweetest powers
Entertain her in your bowers;
Where her ear may joy to hear
How ye make your sweetest quire;
And in all your sweetest vein
Still Aglaia strike her strain;
But when she her walk doth turn,
Then begin as fast to mourn;
All your flowers and garlands wither
Put up all your pipes together;
Never strike a pleasing strain
Till she come abroad again.
poem by Nicholas Breton
Submitted by anonym
Vote! | Copy!
The number of guests at dinner should not be less than the number of the Graces nor exceed that of the Muses, i.e., it should begin with three and stop at nine.
quote by Marcus Terentius Varro
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!