Sonnet XIX: Farewell, Ye Coral Caves
Farewell, ye coral caves, ye pearly sands,Ye waving woods that crown yon lofty steep;Farewell, ye Nereides of the glitt'ring deep,Ye mountain tribes, ye fawns, ye sylvan bands:On the bleak rock your frantic minstrel stands,Each task forgot, save that, to sigh and weep;In vain the strings her burning fingers sweep,No more her touch, the Grecian Lyre commands!In Circe's cave my faithless Phaon's laid,Her daemons dress his brow with opiate flow'rs;Or, loit'ring in the brown pomgranate shade,Beguile with am'rous strains the fateful hours;While Sappho's lips, to paly ashes fade,And sorrow's cank'ring worm her heart devours!
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