Musings on Muses

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Come into my house,


O wayfaring soul.


Come, broken spirit,


Come be made whole.


 


Enter by the ancient gate,


Tread down the willowed way,


Pass through my open door


And rest yourself at the end of day.


 


Dine at a table laid for you,


And meet my daughters, fair and fine.


These girls will feed your hungry soul


As you sip my potent wine.


 


Calliope speaks of epic deeds;


She spins her tales with golden yarn,


Stories meant to uplift, inspire.


O, listen to the great feats of arm!


 


Clio’s tales are always true:


She stares with an unblinking eye


At the history of mankind


Of empires, states, and worlds gone by.


 


Melpomene approaches with mournful face,


And speaks of tragic twists of fate.


Her heroes have a fatal flaw:


They learn their lessons much too late.


 


Thalia has a comic air.


In merry tales she does delight,


And happy endings give her cheer,


Purging tears with joyful light.


 


Above her sisters’ even tones


Euterpe’s voice so piercing-sweet


Rises in melodious song and fair,


Her rhythm matching your own heartbeat.


 


 


Joining the music to her limbs,


Her twin Terpsichore with body blithe,


Dances gracefully on tiny feet,


As her arms and legs daintily writhe.


 


With heart aflutter, behold the Maid


Whose soft caress and honeyed words


Inspires in men such loving rhymes.


Erato sings of bees and birds!


 


Incline your face up to the sky


Beyond Earth’s hazy stratosphere.


Urania sings with the Outer Rim


A song too loud for mortal ear.


 


Last of my daughters, but greatest yet:


Singing back to Creator God


Polyhymnia stately in her veil


Returns the Music his heart has wrought!


 


“But who are You?” you ask of me;


your eyes are wide and amazed.


“Whose breast has nursed these gracious nine?


Under whose roof were they raised?”


 


“What enchanted house is this?


Who is mistress of these sacred walls,


Whose aged floors creak and groan,


Where whispers echo through the halls?”


 


Go ask your grandmother, o stranger.


She knows my name indeed!


Queen Mnemosyne the ancient called me;


In your tongue: I am Memory.


 

Created: Feb 19, 2012

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