Thyrsis
More sweet thy pipe's enchanting melody Than streams that fall from broken rocks on high. Say, by the nymphs, that guard the sacred scene, Where lowly tamarisks shade these hillocks green, At noontide shall we lie? No; for o'erwearied with the forest chase, Pan, the great hunter god, sleeps in this place. Beneath the branching elm, while thy sad verse, O Thyrsis! Daphnis' sorrows shall rehearse, Fronting the wood-nymph's solitary seat, Whose fountains flash amid the dark retreat; Where the old statue leans, and brown oaks wave Their ancient umbrage o'er the pastoral cave; There will we rest, and thou, as erst, prolong The sweet enchantment of the Doric song!
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"More sweet thy pipe's enchanting melody..."
"Thyrsis" is a quintessential example of William Lisle Bowles's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...