Friday Poetry: Ulysses’s Response to Cupid

Dread god, for words of hope you come to me.
Elysium frees me of my former frame.
A vaster mind and soul’s eternity
Inform the keen account I would declaim.
But I must speak out humbly–you, divine
Would place me still in peril of the heat
Of known Olympian wrath if I define
The justice wretches cheer to see you meet.
Your race has fed us tragedy by day
And rocked us nightly to our anguished sleep.
Immortals make flesh toys for idle play,
And now to my door you have come to weep.
In this, an earthly evenness derived
From poisons you have heavenly contrived.

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