Aoede

Parch’d of words, parch’d of lauds,
Lorn and tyned fro my wame –
‘Seech I more perforce indeed:
Lap I of thee: Thou art want.

With dulcet gust thine floret,
Which I yet would not do –
Pray I thee for thine avail –
Lave me in it; I want more!

For my loe, not be adust.

Come see as the wind: Chant –
I let thee come in –
Come see as the wind, Aoede.

As of lote – upon thee dote,
Lowing ’tis, true forsooth,
Tisn’t a tongue, nay merely mote,
Thou art grandly mae than couth’:
Eft and e’er doth it eke –
I am what I do behold.

For my loe, not be adust.

Come see as the wind: Chant –
I let thee come in –
Come see as the wind, Aoede.

Posted in Theatre Of Tragedy and tagged , , , , .

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Human Verification: In order to verify that you are a human and not a spam bot, please enter the answer into the following box below based on the instructions contained in the graphic.