An Ode
The merchant, to secure his treasure, Conveys it in a borrowed name: Euphelia serves to grace my measure; But Chloe is my real Flame. My softest verse, my darling lyre Upon Euphelias toilet lay; When Chloe noted her desire, That I should sing, that I should play. My lyre I tune, my voice I raise; But with my numbers mix my sighs: And whilst I sing Euphelias praise, I fix my soul on Chloes eyes. Fair Chloe blushd: Euphelia frowned: I sung and gazed:I played and trembled: And Venus to the Loves around Remarked, how ill we all dissembled.
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"The merchant, to secure his treasure,..."
This evocative piece by Matthew Prior, titled "An Ode", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...