Classic Poem

I fain would of the Atreidae sing,
And of the mighty Theban King,
But of my lyre each tender tone
Breathes love and soft desire alone.
I late restrung my rebellious lyre,
And straight amain I did aspire
To sing of deeds of high emprise

Of old done by the great and wise;
And of the glorious victories
Achieved by stout-thewed Heracles.
But vain my efforts; not for me
The laurels of the epopee.
Then heroes, kings, a long farewell! —
To love I consecrate my shell.