A Singer[]
You came – a god – across the thirsty plain:
Lo, all the toil-worn earth grew young again.
You sang: a dryad leapt from every tree
To drink the rapture of your melody.
You piped: and in the shady woodland ways
The nymphs and satyrs danced in woven maze.
You passed: each tree its lonely secret keeps,
Yet in the flowing stream your music sleeps.
This poem is in the public domain