Ode on the Subject of Personal Audio

What song the Sirens sang o’er stormy waves
So that Odysseus strove in vain and raved
Or blast of horn before old Jericho’s walls
Did crumble ‘fore the righteous trumpet’s calls
And even Aeolus’s box of airy blast
Though roaring and tempestuous, fails at last
Can triumph over Apple’s little pearl?

Away, drunk troubadours and skip’d CDs
Fair iPod is the Muse of MP3s.