Classic Poem

Proserpine 's Empire glimmer'd o'er my Sight,
And dim Elyzium shed a faint Delight;
Where Sappho 's blest! who warbling plaintive Strains,
Melodious of her Country-Maids complains;
Alcaeus too, who sings of Flight and War,
Whose swelling Lyre to deeper Rage would dare;
In sacred Silence chain'd, the Ghosts around,
Astonisht stare, and hang upon the Sound;
Of Kings depos'd the Throngs rejoice to hear,
And list'ning drink the Warblings in their Ear;
What Wonder? since the triple-headed Beast,
Starting — lops down his Ears; and lull'd to Rest,
Erinnys ' Serpents sleep upon her Breast.
Nor now the wonted Chase Orion heeds,
Nor now beneath his Hand the Lion bleeds,
The Sorrow-soothing Sounds Prometheus please,
And Tantalus delude, and soften into Ease.