To Aristius Fuscus

Eugene Field 1850 (St. Louis) – 1895 (Chicago)



Fuscus, whoso to good inclines,
And is a faultless liver,
Nor Moorish spear nor bow need fear,
Nor poison-arrowed quiver.

Ay, though through desert wastes he roam,
Or scale the rugged mountains,
Or rest beside the murmuring tide
Of weird Hydaspan fountains!

Lo, on a time, I gayly paced
The Sabine confines shady,
And sung in glee of Lalage,
My own and dearest lady;

And as I sung, a monster wolf
Slunk through the thicket from me;
But for that song, as I strolled along,
He would have overcome me!

Set me amid those poison mists
Which no fair gale dispelleth,
Or in the plains where silence reigns,
And no thing human dwelleth,--

Still shall I love my Lalage,
Still sing her tender graces;
And while I sing, my theme shall bring
Heaven to those desert places!

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on April 08, 2023

42 sec read
127

Quick analysis:

Scheme XAXA XBXB XCDC XCXC XEXE DXXX
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 745
Words 140
Stanzas 6
Stanza Lengths 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4

Eugene Field

Eugene Field, Sr. was an American writer, best known for his children's poetry and humorous essays. more…

All Eugene Field poems | Eugene Field Books

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