Ah, it was he I heard at early dawn,
From the high hilltop and the dew-wet hollow,
While I was yet as tender as a fawn.
Calling me, "Follow!"
And it was he who spoke at sultry noon,
By the bright pool, when Dian was away:
"Frail is your harp as is the crescent moon,
Yet shall you play!"
Still do I hear that calling, Apollo!
Though it is far, and failing is the light:
"Lo, you are spent, but you shall rise and follow
Into the night!"
A Greek Lyrist Sings Of Apollo
Margaret Steele Anderson
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Poem topics: away, light, moon, night, tender, rise, play, hear, bright, early, high, dawn, follow, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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