Classic Poem

( FROM THE OLD ENGLISH RIDDLE )

I THROUGH my throat the thronging melodies
Delicately devising in divers moods,
Let my little breath lavishly chime,
Still the bestower of unstinted song.
Of old to all men my evening enchantment
Brings blissful ease; they, when I bind them
With my thrilling sweet troubles, enthralled in their houses
Lean forward, listening. Learn now my name
Who cry so keenly, such quivering glee
Pealing merrily, and pour such musical
Ringing welcome to returning warriors.