LXXVII
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
· (no date)
Published 01/07/1880
Part of Hymn to Mercury, translated from the Greek of Homer
'And their delight is dance, and the blithe noise
Of song and overflowing poesy;
And sweet, even as desire, the liquid voice
Of pipes, that fills the clear air thrillingly;
But never did my inmost soul rejoice
In this dear work of youthful revelry
As now. I wonder at thee, son of Jove;
Thy harpings and thy song are soft as love.