The Fox and the Lyre

The Fox and the Lyre

O’er the bright hills and southern green 

He laid warmly in cover’d grassy mows

Play’d tune amongst the trees 

The beasts of woodland crowds came to play

 

Orpheus, his song of high muses 

Made the the beast of wood dance

The soothing song of a divine kiss 

Sweet, as the waters bade in the Last Sea

 

The bard made his rest known to all

Sleep found him quickly after his playing

Deeply he dreamt, far and beyond 

Elysian fields draped in a saffron robe

 

As he laid sleep, a fox approach 

Cunning, sly, and swift the lyre fell beneath the foxes’ feet

Into the wood the fox made his escape 

With Orpheus’ lyre between his teeth

 

As Orpheus returns to wake, he bellows a cry 

To his father Apollo of his missing and lost lyre

Apollo tells of a cunning fox who took off 

Swiftly with his beloved gift of muses wonder

 

Orpheus followed the counsel of Apollo

Sang he did, to the trees, to wake the daughters of Oxylus

Awoke, Maphenia, beautiful maiden of the southern mountains

Eyes of barken brown, hair of golden autumn shimmer 

 

To you I give thee my favored kindness 

Her treely branches gave fruit to the floor of the earth 

Orpheus awaited for the cunning fox to show

For the fox to eat the fruit of Maphenia’s branches

 

The fox approach the mountain tree 

Below spread amongst his warm nimble feet

Maphenia’s fruit, juicy berry’d delight 

The fox fell at the bite, of her delicious berry brights

 

To him, Orpheus holds tight his lyre once more

One last song he play’d for the fox to wake

And once the fox rose from its short slumber 

Through the wood he ran, shiny, his bright red fur

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