Unwearied, Forever piping songs forever new Ī burning forehead, and a parching tongue. Nor ever bid the Spring adieu And, happy melodist, Winning near the goal-yet, do not grieve She cannotįade, though thou hast not thy bliss Forever wilt thouĪh, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed Your leaves, Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare īold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave Sweeter therefore, ye soft pipes, play on Not to the sensualĮar, but, more endeared, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are Maidens loath? What mad pursuit? What struggle toĮscape? What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy? Of deities or mortals, or of both, In Tempe or theĭales of Arcady? What men or gods are these? What Rhyme: What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape Thus express A flowery tale more sweetly than our Thou still unravished bride of quietness, Thou fosterĬhild of silence and slow time, Sylvan historian, who canst Also the décor on the pot often provided The shape and size of the pot offered aĬommon liquids needed in large quantities,Īnd smaller vessels to hold rarer or more
They were used inĬarrying, mixing, serving, drinking and as Vases were mostly functional, made to be.What stories did they tell about Ancient Greek life?
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