WILLIAM BLAKE
497 To the Muses
WHETHER on Ida's shady brow Or in the chambers of the East, The chambers of the Sun, that now From ancient melody have ceased;
Whether in heaven ye wander fair, Or the green corners of the earth,
Or the blue regions of the air
Where the melodious winds have birth;
Whether on crystal rocks ye rove,
Beneath the bosom of the sea, Wandering in many a coral grove ;
Fair Nine, forsaking Poetry,
How have you left the ancient love That bards of old enjoy'd in you'
The languid strings do scarcely move, The sound is forced, the notes are few.
498 To Spring
OTHOU with dewy locks, who looked down Through the clear windows of the morning, turn Thine angel eyes upon our western isle, Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring '
The hills tell one another, and the listening Valleys hear, all our longing eyes are turn'd Up to thy blight pavilions' issue forth And let thy holy feet visit our clime!
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