Hunt and Lee, comps. The Book of the Sonnet. 1867.
VII. The LuggieDavid Gray (1838–1861)
O
When dripping Naiads taught their streams to glide!
When, ’mid the greenery, one would ofttimes spy
An Oread tripping with her face aside.
The dismal realms of Dis by Virgil sung,
Whose shade led Dante, in his virtue bold,
All the sad grief and agony among,
O’er Acheron, that mournful river old,
Ev’n to the Stygian tide of purple gloom!
Pan in the forest making melody!
And far away where hoariest billows boom,
Old Neptune’s steeds with snorting nostrils high!
These were the ancient days of sunny song;
Their memory yet how dear to the poetic throng!