Explore "Philomel and Progne" by Jean de La Fontaine on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
From home and city spires, one day, / The swallow Progne flew away, / And sought the bosky dell / Where sang poor Philomel.[1] / 'My sister,' Progne said, 'how do you do? / 'Tis now a thousand years since you / Have been conceal'd from human view; / I'm sure I have not seen your face / Once since the times of Thrace. / Pray, will you never quit this dull retreat? ' / 'Where could I find,' said Philomel, 'so sweet? ' / 'What! sweet? ' cried Progne -- 'sweet to waste / Such tones on beasts devoid of taste, / Or on some rustic, at the most! / Should you by deserts be engross'd? / Come, be the city's pride and boast. / Besides, the woods remind of harms / That Tereus in them did your charms. ' / 'Alas! ' replied the bird of song, / 'The thought of that so cruel wrong / Makes me, from age to age, / Prefer this hermitage; / For nothing like the sight of men / Can call up what I suffer'd then. '[2]
[1]: _Progne and Philomel_. -- Progne and Philomela, sisters, in mythology. Progne was Queen of Thrace, and was changed into a swallow. Her sister was changed into a nightingale; _vide_ Ovid, _Metamorphoses_.