The Descent Of The Muses

by


    Nine sisters, beautiful in form and face,
        Came from their convent on the shining heights
        Of Pierus, the mountain of delights,
        To dwell among the people at its base.
    Then seemed the world to change.    All time and space,
        Splendor of cloudless days and starry nights,
        And men and manners, and all sounds and sights,
        Had a new meaning, a diviner grace.
    Proud were these sisters, but were not too proud
        To teach in schools of little country towns
        Science and song, and all the arts that please;
    So that while housewives span, and farmers ploughed,
        Their comely daughters, clad in homespun gowns,
        Learned the sweet songs of the Pierides.

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