SYRINX
by: John Lyly (1553-1606)
- AN'S Syrinx
was a girl indeed,
- Though now she's turned into a reed;
- From that dear reed Pan's pipe does come,
- A pipe that strikes Apollo dumb;
- Nor flute, nor lute, nor gittern can
- So chant it as the pipe of Pan:
- Cross-gartered swains and dairy girls,
- With faces smug and round as pearls,
- When Pan's shrill pipe begins to play,
- With dancing wear out night and day;
- The bagpipe's drone his hum lays by,
- When Pan sounds up his minstrelsy;
- His minstrelsy! O base! this quill,
- Which at my mouth with wind I fill,
- Puts me in mind, though her I miss,
- That still my Syrinx' lips I kiss.
"Syrinx" was originally
published in Lyly's Midas (1592). |
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POEMS BY JOHN LYLY |
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