APOLLO once had leave to travel; <br />He sought our Yankee land, <br />And he lionized it through, <br />With his golden lyre in hand. <br /> <br />Once, at 'a cottage near a wood,' <br />Which promised welcome's smile, <br />He thought, by general invitation, <br />To rusticate awhile. <br /> <br />One morn he woke, — he yawned, — he turned, — <br />Sprang up with fright and grief, <br />And cried,' By George! my lyre is stolen: <br />Without there, ho! stop thief!' <br /> <br />But vainly sought he east and west, <br />Half mad, — all br. broken-hearted; <br />O, a most ungodlike look he wore, <br />With his glory all departed! <br /> <br />At last he turned Olympus-ward, <br />Thus lyreless, — woe's the day! <br />For Juno frowned, and Venus wept, <br />And Cupid ran away! <br /> <br />Those ennuied gods and goddesses, <br />Upon their mount sublime, <br />O, had they not a weary lot, <br />A dull and dozing time! <br /> <br />One morn there rose upon the air <br />Most sweet, though mortal song, <br />By Zephyrus' glad wing upborne <br />To charm that heavenly throng. <br /> <br />Fair Venus bent her pearly car, <br />Then earthward fixed her gaze, <br />And smiled a curious kind of smile, <br />Half pleasure, — half amaze. <br /> <br />'I see a mortal bard, his hand <br />Across a lyre's strings flinging, <br />And mortal lips catch up the strains, <br />Till all the land is ringing! <br /> <br />'About him throng the fair and young, — <br />They crown him! — I declare, <br />Fast by him stands my truant boy! — <br />Apollo, dear, look there!' <br /> <br />The god rose from his cloud-divan: <br />'Ha! by my thundering sire, <br />I understand that game of Morris. <br />There's the thief that stole my lyre!'<br /><br />Grace Greenwood<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/valentine-to-g-p-morris/
