William Blake Whether on Ida's shady brow, Or in the chambers of the East, The chambers of the sun, that now From ancient melody have ceased: Whether in Heaven ye wander fair, Or in the green corners of the earth, Or the blue regions of the air, Where the melodious winds have birth; Whether on crystal rocks ye rove, Beneath the bosom of the sea Wandering in many a coral grove, Fair Nine, forsaking Poetry! How have you left the ancient love That bards of old enjoyed in you! The languid strings do scarcely move! The sound is forced, the notes are few!