INTRODUCTORY ODE
CALLIOPE, ORPHEUS
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CALLIOPE
IN the days of the spring of my being,
When maidenly bent I above
The head of the poet, and, seeing
Not love, was the lyre of his love;
When laurels I bore to the harper,
When bays for the lyrist I bore,
My life was diviner and sharper,
My name in the Muses was more;
When virgin I came to him stainless,
When love was a pleasure and painless!
What Destiny dreams and discovers
The fragrance men know for a lover’s?
Peace turned into laughter and tears,
Borne down the cold stream of the years!
Ant. a
ORPHEUS
O mother, O queen many-minded,
More beauty than beauty may be,
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