Thus to the Muses spoke the Cyprian Dame,
Adorn my altars, and revere my name.
My son shall else assume his potent darts;
Twang goes the bow; my girls have at your hearts.
The Muses answer'd Venus, We deride
The Vagrant's malice and his mother's pride:
Send him to nymphs who sleep on Ida's shade,
To the loose dance and wanton masquerade:
Our thoughts are settled, and intent our look
On the instructive verse and moral book.
On female idleness his power relies,
But when he finds us studying hard he flies.
Venus' Advice To The Muses
Matthew Prior
(1)
Poem topics: dance, mother, power, pride, sleep, son, shade, answer, hard, female, book, verse, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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