The Shepherd of King Admetus
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- There came a youth upon the earth,
- Some thousand years ago,
- Whose slender hands were nothing worth,
- Whether to plough, or reap, or sow.
- Upon an empty tortoise-shell
- He stretched some chords, and drew
- Music that made men's bosoms swell
- Fearless, or brimmed their eyes with dew.
- Then King Admetus, one who had
- Pure taste by right divine,
- Decreed his singing not too bad
- To hear between the cups of wine:
- And so, well pleased with being soothed
- Into a sweet half-sleep,
- Three times his kingly beard he smoothed,
- And made him viceroy o'er his sheep.
- His words were simple words enough,
- And yet he used them so,
- That what in other mouths was rough
- In his seemed musical and low.
- Men called him but a shiftless youth,
- In whom no good they saw;
- And yet, unwittingly, in truth,
- They made his careless words their law.
- They knew not how he learned at all,
- For idly, hour by hour,
- He sat and watched the dead leaves fall,
- Or mused upon a common flower.
- It seemed the loveliness of things
- Did teach him all their use,
- For, in mere weeds, and stones, and springs,
- He found a healing power profuse.
- Men granted that his speech was wise,
- But, when a glance they caught
- Of his slim grace and woman's eyes,
- They laughed, and called him good-for-naught.
- Yet after he was dead and gone,
- And e'en his memory dim,
- Earth seemed more sweet to live upon,
- More full of love, because of him.
- And day by day more holy grew
- Each spot where he had trod,
- Till after-poets only knew
- Their first-born brother as a god.
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