Neath this tall pine,
That to the zephyr sways and murmurs low,
Mayst thou recline,
While near thee cooling waters flow.
This flute of mine
Shall pipe the softest song it knows to sing,
And to thy charmèd eyelids sleep will bring.
Harold, I appreciate your intellectual comment! The latent truths provided by Plato are finally revealed to me! Thank you so much for your insight :)
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A short yet thoughtful poem. Thank you to the people at PoemHunter for delivering their attention to it.