<p><SPAN name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"></SPAN></p>
<h2> XIII </h2>
<p>They are for you, O ye graces, just a few leaves by a poet<br/>
<br/>
Onto your pure altar laid, buds of the rose beside,<br/>
<br/>
Offered in confidence. Artists enjoy ateliers which are furnished<br/>
<br/>
So as to make for a space Pantheon-like in decor:<br/>
<br/>
Jupiter lowers that godly brow while his Juno looks upward;<br/>
<br/>
Phoebus takes forward strides, shaking his curly head;<br/>
<br/>
While phlegmatic Minerva peers down on us, frivolous Hermes<br/>
<br/>
Seems to be looking askance, roguish, though tender as well.<br/>
<br/>
But it's to Bacchus, the sensuous dreamer, Cythera sends glances<br/>
<br/>
Bathed in sweetest desire—even in marble they're damp.<br/>
<br/>
Thinking about his embrace and its pleasures, she seems to be asking<br/>
<br/>
Shouldn't our glorious son here at our side stand erect?<br/></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />
1 of 2
2 of 2
Previous
Next
Update Required
To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.