SONG.
WhenPhœbus, for what crime unknown,Was exiled from the Courts of Jove,And to this earth came mournful down,Of all things else bereft, but love;(For that pure Fire feels not the stormsThat shake or change this worldly frame;Immortal as the soul it warms,It burns in unextinguish’d flame—)His fingers to the lyre he turn’d,Then all with chords of sorrow strung;The lost delights of heaven he mourn’d,But more her loss, for whom he sung:He sung so sweetly that the strainDrew pity from the gods above;They call’d the wanderer back again,And gave theMuseto crown his love.
WhenPhœbus, for what crime unknown,Was exiled from the Courts of Jove,And to this earth came mournful down,Of all things else bereft, but love;(For that pure Fire feels not the stormsThat shake or change this worldly frame;Immortal as the soul it warms,It burns in unextinguish’d flame—)His fingers to the lyre he turn’d,Then all with chords of sorrow strung;The lost delights of heaven he mourn’d,But more her loss, for whom he sung:He sung so sweetly that the strainDrew pity from the gods above;They call’d the wanderer back again,And gave theMuseto crown his love.
WhenPhœbus, for what crime unknown,Was exiled from the Courts of Jove,And to this earth came mournful down,Of all things else bereft, but love;
WhenPhœbus, for what crime unknown,
Was exiled from the Courts of Jove,
And to this earth came mournful down,
Of all things else bereft, but love;
(For that pure Fire feels not the stormsThat shake or change this worldly frame;Immortal as the soul it warms,It burns in unextinguish’d flame—)
(For that pure Fire feels not the storms
That shake or change this worldly frame;
Immortal as the soul it warms,
It burns in unextinguish’d flame—)
His fingers to the lyre he turn’d,Then all with chords of sorrow strung;The lost delights of heaven he mourn’d,But more her loss, for whom he sung:
His fingers to the lyre he turn’d,
Then all with chords of sorrow strung;
The lost delights of heaven he mourn’d,
But more her loss, for whom he sung:
He sung so sweetly that the strainDrew pity from the gods above;They call’d the wanderer back again,And gave theMuseto crown his love.
He sung so sweetly that the strain
Drew pity from the gods above;
They call’d the wanderer back again,
And gave theMuseto crown his love.