HYMENAIOS
Artisans, raise high the roof beam!
Tall is the bridegroom as Ares,
Taller by far than the tallest,
O Hymenæus!
Ay! towering over his fellows,
As over men of all other
Lands towers the Lesbian singer,
O Hymenæus!
Well-favored, too, is the maiden,
Eyes that are sweeter than honey,
Fair both in face and in figure,
O Hymenæus!
For there was never another
Virgin in loveliness like her,
By Aphrodite so honored,
O Hymenæus!
O happy bridegroom, the wedding
Comes to the point of completion;
Thou hast the maid of thy choosing,
O Hymenæus!
See how a paleness suffuses
Soft o'er her exquisite features,
Passion's benign premonition,
O Hymenæus!
Go to the couch unreluctant,
Rejoicing and sweet to the bridegroom;
He in his turn is rejoicing,
O Hymenæus!
May Hesperus lead thee, and Hera,
She whom to-night that ye honor,
Silver-throned Goddess of marriage,
O Hymenæus!
BRIDAL SONG
Bride, that goest to the bridal chamber
In the dove-drawn car of Aphrodite,
By a band of dimpled
Loves surrounded;
Bride, of maidens all the fairest image
Mitylene treasures of the Goddess,
Rosy-ankled Graces
Are thy playmates;
Bride, O fair and lovely, thy companions
Are the gracious hours that onward passing
For thy gladsome footsteps
Scatter garlands.
Bride, that blushing like the sweetest apple
On the very branch's end, so strangely
Overlooked, ungathered
By the gleaners;
Bride, that like the apple that was never
Overlooked but out of reach so plainly,
Only one thy rarest
Fruit may gather;
Bride, that into womanhood has ripened
For the harvest of the bridegroom only,
He alone shall taste thy
Hoarded sweetness.
EPITHALAMIUM
Vesper is here! behold
Faint gleams that welcome shine!
Rise from the feast, O youths,
And chant the fescennine!
Before the porch we sing
The hymeneal song;
Vesper is here, O youths!
The star we waited long.
We lead the festal groups
Across the bridegroom's porch;
Vesper is here, O youths!
Wave high the bridal torch.
Hail, noble bridegroom, hail!
The virgin fair has come;
Unlatch the door and lead
Her timid footsteps home.
Hail, noble bridegroom, hail!
Straight as a tender tree;
Fond as a folding vine
Thy bride will cling to thee.
PIERIA'S ROSE
Pale death shall come, and thou and thine shall be,
Then and thereafter, to all memory
Forgotten as the wind that yesterday
Blew the last lingering apple buds away;
For thou hadst never that undying rose
To grace the brow and shed immortal glows;
Pieria's fadeless flower that few may claim
To wreathe and save thy unremembered name.
Ay! even on the fields of Dis unknown,
Obscure among the shadows and alone,
Thy flitting shade shall pass uncomforted
Of any heed from all the flitting dead.
But no one maid, I think, beneath the skies,
At any time shall live and be as wise,
In sooth, as I am; for the Muses Nine
Have made me honored and their gifts are mine;
And men, I think, will never quite forget
My songs or me; so long as stars shall set
Or sun shall rise, or hearts feel love's desire,
My voice shall cross their dreams, a sigh of fire.
LAMENT FOR ADONIS
Ah, for Adonis!
See, he is dying,
Delicate, lovely,
Slender Adonis.
Ah, for Adonis!
Weep, O ye maidens,
Beating your bosoms,
Rending your tunics.
O Cytherea,
Hasten, for never
Loved thou another
As thy Adonis.
See, on the rosy
Cheek with its dimple,
Blushing no longer,
Thanatos' shadow.
Save him, O Goddess!
Thou, the beguiler,
All-powerful, holy,
Stay the dread evil.
Ah, for Adonis!
No more at vintage
Time will he come with
Bloom of the meadows.
Ah, for Adonis!
See, he is dying,
Fading as flowers
With the lost summer.
THE STRICKEN FLOWER
Think not to ever look as once of yore,
Atthis, upon my love; for thou no more
Wilt find intact upon its stem the flower
Thy guile left slain and bleeding in that hour.
So ruthless shepherds crush beneath their feet
The hill flower blooming in the summer heat;
The hyacinth whose purple heart is found
Left bruised and dead, to darken on the ground.
DEATH
Death is an evil; so the Gods decree,
So they have judged, and such must rightly be
Our mortal view; for they who dwell on high
Had never lived, had it been good to die.
And so the poet's house should never know
Of tears and lamentations any show;
Such things befit not us who deathless sing
Of love and beauty, gladness and the spring.
No hint of grief should mar the features of
Our dreams of endless beauty, lasting love;
For they reflect the joy inviolate,
Eternal calm that fronts whatever fate.
Clëis, my darling, grieve no more, I pray!
Let wandering winds thy sorrow bear away,
And all our care; my daughter, let thy smile
Shine through thy tears and gladden me the while.
PERSEPHONE
I saw a tender maiden plucking flowers
Once, long ago, in the bright morning hours;
And then from heaven I saw a sudden cloud
Fall swift and dark, and heard her cry aloud.
Again I looked, but from my open door
My anxious eyes espied the maid no more;
The cloud had vanished, bearing her away
To underlands beyond the smiling day.
MAIDENHOOD
Do I long for maidenhood?
Do I long for days
When upon the mountain slope
I would stand and gaze
Over the Ægean's blue
Melting into mist,
Ere with love my virgin lips
Cercolas had kissed?
Maidenhood, O maidenhood,
Whither hast thou flown?
To a land beyond the sea
Thou hast never known.
Maidenhood, O maidenhood,
Wilt return to me?
Never will my bloom again
Give its grace to thee.
Now the autumn skies are low,
Youth and summer sped;
Shepherd hills are far away,
Cercolas is dead.
Mitylene's marble courts
Echo with my name;—
Maidenhood, we never dreamed,
Long ago of fame.
EVER MAIDEN
I shall be ever maiden,
Ever the little child,
In my passionate quest for the lovely,
By earth's glad wonder beguiled.
I shall be ever maiden,
Standing in soul apart,
For the Gods give the secret of beauty
Alone to the virgin heart.
CLËIS
Daughter of mine, so fair,
With a form like a golden flower,
Wherefore thy pensive air
And the dreams in the myrtle bower?
Clëis, beloved, thy eyes
That are turned from my gaze, thy hand
That trembles so, I prize
More than all the Lydian land;
More than the lovely hills
With the Lesbian olive crowned;—
Tell me, darling, what ills
In the gloom of thy thought are found?
Daughter of mine, come near
And thy head on my knees recline;
Whisper and never fear,
For the beat of thy heart is mine.
Sweet mother, I can turn
With content to my loom no more;
My bosom throbs, I yearn
For a youth that my eyes adore;
Lykas of Eresus,
Whom I knew when a little child;
My heart by Love is thus
With the sweetest of pain beguiled.
ASPIRATION
I do not think with my two arms to touch the sky,
I do not dream to do almighty things;
So small a singing bird may never soar so high,
To beat the sapphire fire with baffled wings.
I do not think with my two arms to touch the sky,
I do not dream by any chance to share
With deathless Gods the bliss of Paphos they deny
To men behind the azure veil of air.
HERO, OF GYARA
I taught Hero, of Gyara, the swift runner;
Swifter far was she than Atalanta,
When through clinging fleece of her wind-rippled
Garments blushed the glimmer of her limbs.
I taught Hero, of Gyara, the swift runner;
Lovelier was she than Atalanta,
When the straining vision of the suitor
Saw her beauty mock impending death.
I taught Hero, of Gyara, the swift runner,
All the singing numbers of Terpander,
Metres of Archilochus and Alcman,
And my melic verse that glows supreme.
I taught Hero, of Gyara, the swift runner,
Sapphics with their triple surge of music
Melting in the final verse Adonic,
Like the foam fall of a spended wave.
COURAGE
Faint not in thy strong heart!
Nor downcast stand apart;
Beyond the reach of daring will there lies
No beauty's prize.
Faint not in thy strong heart!
Through temple, field and mart,
Courage alone the guerdon from the fray
May bear away.
THE BOAST OF ARES
Ares said he would drag
Hephestus by force
From Poseidon's palace
Deep down in the sea;
Where he had fashioned
The cunning throne
With the secret chains.
He presented the throne,
Forsooth, as a gift
To the queen of heaven;
But Hera soon found
For revenge on her
Who had him cast
From the home of Gods.
For secure in its clasp
Of adamant gold
She was held imprisoned,
The prey of his guile;
And Hephestus knew
By him alone
Could the queen be freed.
But the great God of war
Made boast of his strength;
He would bring the forger
Of metals and tricks
On high to release
Hera, and end
Her enraged despair.
Ares said he would drag
Hephestus by force,
But was made to waver
And flee when assailed
With a blazing brand
By the dark God
Of the underworld.
GOLD
Gold is the son of Zeus,
Immortal, bright;
Nor moth nor worm may eat it,
Nor rust tarnish.
So are the Muse's gifts
The offspring fair,
That merit from high heaven
Youth eternal.
GNOMICS
I
My ways are quiet, none may find
My temper of malignant kind;
For one should check the words that start
When anger spreads within the heart.
II
Who from my hands what I can spare
Of gifts accept the largest share,
Those are the very ones who boast
No gratitude and wrong me most.
III
He who in face and form is fair
Must needs be good, the Gods declare;
But he whose thought and act are right
Will soon be equal fair to sight.
IV
Beauty of youth is but the flower
Of spring, whose pleasure lasts an hour;
While worth that knows no mortal doom
Is like the amaranthine bloom.
PRIDE
Pride not thyself upon a ring,
Or any trinket thing
Of fleeting value, dross or gold.
Wealth, lacking worth, is no safe friend,
Though both to life may lend,
In just proportion, joy untold.
LETO AND NIOBE
Leto and Niobe were friends full dear,
The Goddess' heart and woman's heart were one
In that maternal love that men revere,
Love that endures when other loves are done.
But Niobe with all a mother's pride,
Artless and foolish, would not be denied;
And boasted that her children were more fair
Than Leto's lovely children of the air.
The proud Olympians vowed revenge for this,
Irate Apollo, angered Artemis;
They slew her children, heedless of her moan,
And with the last her heart was turned to stone.
THE DYE
From Scythian wood they brew
The dye whose yellow hue
Turns gold the lovely hair
Of Lesbians fair.
So, Zanthis, slave of mine,
Shall dip the fleeces fine,
And dye the robes I made
A saffron shade.
HYMN TO PAPHIA
Immortal Paphia! have I earned thy hate,
That I should burn in passion's fatal flame?
Is not my constant service thine to claim,
My prayer's appeal with praise of thee elate?
Has not my life been one sole hymn of thee,
One quivering chord on Love's harp overwrought?
My soul has trembled up to thee in thought,
Probed to its depth thy every ecstasy.
Are not my countless heart-beats each a vow,
Of tribute throbs a garland? For thy gain
The Fates have drenched my soul in passion's rain,
Pieria's roses twined about my brow.
The virgin harvest of my heart was thine,
I shuddered in the joy that half consumed;
The votive garlands on thy altar bloomed,
My days were songs to nights of bliss divine.
Why try me, then, with torture, gracious Queen?
Why verge me on this rapture's dread abyss,
Hold breast from breast and stay the yearning kiss?
Ah, couldst thou fashion pain that stung less keen?
The throe of Tantalus is mine to bear,
Beauty that Thetis-like eludes my clasp;
Glances that lure, that make each breath a gasp,
And then disdainful gloat at my despair.
Scornful she dwells beyond my ardor's clutch,
Bathed in an aureole of carnal fire;—
O bind her equal slave to fond desire,
Let passion's tingling warmth her being touch!
Come to me, Goddess, come as once of old,
Hearing my voice implore thee from afar,
I drew to earth thy dazzling avatar;
Accord the smile of piercing bliss untold.
Ask me the dear suave question phrased of yore;
"Sappho, who grieveth now thy mad fond heart?
Wouldst win her beauty, she who frowns apart?
Wild as thou lovest, she soon shall love thee more."
O fair Olympian, answer thus, I pray!
Release me from this torment, yield my arms
The transport thirsted of her folded charms,
In glow that welds her heart to mine for aye.
EROS
From the gnarled branches of the apple trees
The heavy petals, lifted by the breeze,
Fluttered on puffs of odor fine and fell
In the clear water of the garden well;
And some a bolder zephyr blew in sport
Across the marble reaches of my court,
And some by sudden gusts were wafted wide
Toward sea and city, down the mountain side.
Lesbos seemed Paphos, isled in rosy glow,
Green olive hills, the violet vale below;
The air was azure fire and o'er the blue
Still sea the doves of Aphrodite flew.
My dreaming eyes saw Eros from afar
Coming from heaven in his mother's car,
In purple tunic clad; and at my heart
The God was aiming his relentless dart.
He whom fair Aphrodite called her son,
She, the adored, she, the imperial One;
He passed as winds that shake the soul, as pains
Sweet to the heart, as fire that warms the veins;
He passed and left my limbs dissolved in dew,
Relaxed and faint, with passion quivered through;
Exhausted with spent thrills of dread delight,
A sudden darkness rushing on my sight.
PASSION
Now Love shakes my soul, a mighty
Wind from the high mountain falling
Full on the oaks of the forest;
Now, limb-relaxing, it masters
My life and implacable thrills me,
Rending with anguish and rapture.
Now my heart, paining my bosom,
Pants with desire as a mænad
Mad for the orgiac revel.
Now under my skin run subtle
Arrows of flame, and my body
Quivers with surge of emotion.
Now long importunate yearnings
Vanquish with surfeit my reason;
Fainting my senses forsake me.
APHRODITE'S PRAISE
O Sappho, why art thou ever
Singing with praises the blessed
Queen of the heaven?
Why does the heart in thy bosom
Ever revert in its yearning
Throb to the Goddess?
Why are thy senses unsated
Ever in quest of elusive
Love that is deathless?
Ah, gracious Daughter of Cyprus,
Never can I as a mortal
Tire of thy service.
Thou art the breath of my body,
The blood in my veins, and the glowing
Pulse of my bosom.
Omnipotent, burning, resistless,
Thou art the passion that shaking
Masters me ever.
Thou art the crisis of rapture
Relaxing my limbs, and the melting
Ebb of emotion;
Bringing the tears to my lashes,
Sighs to my lips, in the swooning
Excess of passion.
O golden-crowned Aphrodite,
Grant I shall ever be grateful,
Sure of thy favor;
Worthy the lot of thy priestess,
Supreme in the song that forever
Rings with thy praises.
THE FIRST KISS
And down I set the cushion
Upon the couch that she,
Relaxed supine upon it,
Might give her lips to me.
As some enamored priestess
At Aphrodite's shrine,
Entranced I bent above her
With sense of the divine.
She had, by nature nubile,
In years a child, no hint
Of any secret knowledge
Of passion's least intent.
Her mouth for immolation
Was ripe, and mine the art;
And one long kiss of passion
Deflowered her virgin heart.
ODE TO ATTHIS
I loved you, Atthis, once, long years ago!
My blood was flame that thrilled to passion's throe;
Now long neglect has quenched the olden fire,
And blight of drifting years effaced desire.
I loved you, Atthis—joy of long ago—
Love shook my soul as winds on forests blow;
This lawless heart that dared exhaust delight,
Unsated strove and maddened through the night.
I loved you, Atthis, once, long years ago!
With pain whose surge I felt to anguish grow;
Suffered the storms that waste the heart and leave
A desert shore where seas but break to grieve.
I loved you, Atthis—spring of long ago—
Watched you depart, to Andromeda go;
Then I, as keen despair its shadow cast,
O'er my deserted threshold, sobbing, passed.
I loved you, Atthis, once, long years ago!
The thought of me is hateful now, I know;
And all the lavish tenderness of old
Has gone from me and left my bosom cold.
I loved you, Atthis—dream of long ago—
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
How the fond words, impassioned music low,
Sustain the sigh of love's divine regret
No length of time may bid the heart forget.
COMPARISON
Less soft a Tyrian robe
Of texture fine,
Less delicate a rose
Than flesh of thine.
Whiter thy breast than snow
That virgin lies,
And deeper than the blue
Of seas thy eyes.
More golden than the fruit
Of orange trees,
Thy locks that floating lure
The satyr breeze.
Less fine of silver string
An Orphic lyre,
Less sweet than thy low laugh
That wakes desire.
THE SACRIFICE
Upon a cushion soft
My limbs I place,
My every garment doffed
For deeper grace;
From burning doves embalmed
In baccharis,
The scented fumes have calmed
Me like a kiss.
Beyond the phallic shrine
That tripods light,
I pledge with holy wine
An image white;
Anadyomene,
Than foam more fair,
When from the ravished sea
She rose to air.
Daughter of God, accept
These gifts of mine!
Last night my body slept
In arms divine.
These sated lips and eyes
That erstwhile sued,
Accord this sacrifice
In gratitude.
LEDA
Once on a time
They say that Leda found
Beneath the thyme
An egg upon the ground;
And yet the swan
She fondled long ago
Was whiter than
Its shell of peeping snow.
AMŒBEUM: ALCÆUS AND SAPPHO
ALCUSÆUS
Violet-weaving Sappho, pure and lovely,
Softly-smiling Sappho, I would utter
Something that my secret hope has cherished,
Did no painful sense of shame deter me.
SAPPHO
Had the impulse of thy heart been honest,
It had urged no evil supplication;
Shame had not abashed thy eyes before me,
And thy words had done thee no dishonor.
ALCÆUS
Softly-smiling Sappho, longing bids me
Tell thee all that in my heart lies hidden.
SAPPHO
Have no fear, Alcæus, to offend me!
Thy emotion stirs my heart to pity.
ALCÆUS
I desire thee, violet-weaving Sappho!
Love thee madly, softly-smiling Sappho!
SAPPHO
Hush, Alcæus! thou must choose a younger
Comrade for thy couch, for I would never
Join thy years to mine—the Gods forbid it—
Youth and ardent fire to age and ashes.
THE LOVE OF SELENE
Across the still sea's moonlit wave
Selene came
Softly to seek the Latmian cave,
Her breast aflame
With secret passion's ruthless throe,
Her scruples done,
And burning with desire to know
Endymion.
THE CRETAN DANCE
As the moon in all her splendor
Slowly rose above the forest,
Silent stood the Cretan women
Round the altar.
Girdled close their clinging tunics,
Made of some transparent fabric,
Traced the every curve and lissome
Of their bodies.
With revering eyes uplifted
To the round and rising planet,
Soon its drifting beams of silver
Lit their faces.
Soft and clear its sphere effulgent,
Full defined above the treetops,
Steeped in pale unearthly glamor
All the landscape.
When the argent glimmer rested
On the altar piled with garlands,
And its glow unveiled the marble
Aphrodite;
Linking hands, the Cretan women
Moving gracefully with metric
Steps began to dance a measure
To the Goddess.
All so light their feet unsandalled
Pressed the velvet grass in treading,
That they scarcely bruised its tender
Blooming verdure.
Slowly turning in a circle
To the east, their voices chanted
In a plaintive note the sacred
Ithyphallics;
Then they paused, their steps retracing
Toward the west, and answered strophe
By antistrophe with choric
Tones accordant;
With the aftersong epodic,
Standing all before the altar,
Lo! the hymn in praise of Paphos
Was completed.
TO ALCÆUS
Countless are the cups thou drainest
In thy hymns to Dionysos,
O Alcæus!
War and wine alone thou singest;—
Whereforenot of Aphrodite,
O Alcæus!
Spacious halls are thine where many
Trophies hang in Ares' honor,
O Alcæus!
Brazen shields and shining helmets,
Plates of brass, Chalcidian broad-swords,
O Alcæus!
When with winter roars the Thracian
North wind through the leafless forest,
O Alcæus!
Thou dost heap the fire and banish
Care with many a tawny goblet,
O Alcæus!
HYPORCHEME
Thus contend the maidens
In the cretic dance,
Rosy arms that glisten,
Eyes that glance;
Cheeks as fair as blossoms,
Parted lips that glow,
With their honeyed voices
Chanting low;
With their plastic bodies
Swaying to the flute,
Moving with the music
Never mute;
Graceful the orchestric
Figures they unfold,
While the vesper heaven
Turns to gold.
Turns to gold.
LARICHUS
While charming maids plait garlands for thy brows,
Larichus, bring the pledge for this carouse
Like lovely Ganymede, brother mine,
And cool from thy patera pour the wine.
Thy slender limbs have all a Satyr's grace,
Hylas, the Wood-God, dimples in thy face;
These maids of mine, beloved and loving me,
My dreams have made thy Nymphs to sport with thee.
I heard fair Mitylene's plaudits cease
O'er Lykas, Menon and Dinnomenes;
And hail thy beauty worthy of the prize,
Cupbearer to the council of the wise.
No noble youth the prytaneum holds,
Whose graceful form the purple tunic folds
Can match with thee, when on affairs of state
All Lesbos gathers with the wise and great.
SPRING
Come, shell divine, be vocal now for me,
As when the Hebrus river and the sea
To Lesbos bore, on waves harmonious,
The head and golden lyre of Orpheus.
Calliope, queen of the tuneful throng,
Descend and be the Muse of melic song;
For through my frame life's tides renewing bring
The glad vein-warming vigor of the spring.
The skies that dome the earth with far blue fire
Make the wide land one temple of desire;—
Just now across my cheek I felt a God,
In the enraptured breeze, pass zephyr-shod.
Was that Pan's flute, O Atthis, that we heard,
Or the soft love-note of a woodland bird?
That flame a scarlet wing that skimmed the stream,
Or the red flash of our impassioned dream?
Ah, soon again we two shall gather fair
Garlands of dill and rose to deck our bare
White arms that cling, white breast that burns to breast,
When the long night of love shall banish rest.
PRELUDE
Deftly on my little
Seven-stringed barbitos,
Now to please my girl friends
Songs I set to music.
Maidens fair, companions
Of the Muses, never
Toward you shall my feelings
Undergo a change.
Chanted in a plaintive
Old Ionic measure,
All the songs I give you
Are the songs of love.
ANDROMEDA
What bucolic maiden
Now thy heart bewitches,
O my Andromeda
Of the strange amours?
Round her awkward ankles
She has not the faintest
Sense of art to draw her
Long ungraceful tunic.
Yet she surely makes thee,
O my Andromeda,
For thy sweet unlawful
Love a fair requital.
Joy and praise attend thee,
In thy keen perceptive
Taste for beauty, daughter
Of Polyanax!
Of Polyanax!
EUNEICA
Aphrodite's handmaid,
Bright as gold thou earnest,
Tender woven garlands
Round thy tender neck;
Sweet as soft Persuasion,
Lissome as the Graces,
Shy Euneica, lovely
Girl from Salamis.
Slender thou as Syrinx,
As the waving reed-nymph,
Once by Pan, the god of
Summer winds, deflowered.
On thy lips whose quiver
Seems to plead for pity,
Mine shall rest and linger
Like the mouth of Pan
On the mouth of Syrinx,
When his breath that filled her
Blew through all her body
Music of his love.
GORGO
Gorgo, I am weary
Of thy love's insistence,
Thou to me appearest
An ill-favored child.
Though I am than Gello
Fonder still of virgins,
Toward thee I have never
Felt the least desire.
Yesternight I knew not
What to do, for pity
Moved my bosom deeply,
Seeing thee implore.
Harassed by alternate
Yielding and refusal,
I was half persuaded
Then to grant thy prayer.
At my door thy presence
Lingers like a shadow;
Vain wouldst thou reproach me
With appealing eyes.
Dost thou think by constant
Proofs of lasting passion,
Slowly my obdurate
Will to wear away?
Gorgo, I am weary
Of thy love's insistence,
And my strength exhausted
Grants thy wish at last.
MNASIDICA
Set, O Dica, garlands on thy lovely
Glinting mass of fine and golden tresses,
Sprays of dill with fingers soft entwining
While I stand apart to better judge.
Those who have fair wreaths about the forehead,
Breathing brentheian odor to the senses,
Ever first find favor with the Graces
Who from wreathless suppliants turn away.
Dica, Mnasidica, thou art shapely
With the flowing curves of Aphrodite;
Eyes the color of her azure ocean
Washing wide on Cyprus' languid shore.
In thy every movement grace unconscious
Sways the rhythmic poem of thy body,
Charming with elusive undulation
Like a splendid lily in the wind.
As I stand apart to judge the better
Fair effects that roses add to beauty,
All thy rays of loveliness concentered
Sun me till I swoon with swift desire.
TELESIPPA
Sleep thou in the bosom
Of thy tender girl friend,
Telesippa, gentle
Maiden from Miletus.
Like twin petals shyly
Closing to the darkness,
Dewy on your drooping
Lids shall fall her kisses.
While her arms enfold you,
On your drowsy senses
Shall her soft caresses
Seal delicious languor.
Warm from her desireful
Heart the flush of passion
On your cheek unconscious,
With her sighs shall deepen.
All the long sweet night-time,
Sleepless while you slumber,
She shall lie and quiver
With her love's mad longing.
GYRINNO
Now the silver crescent
Of the moon has vanished,
With the golden Pleiads
Drifting down the west.
It is after midnight
And the time is passing,
Hours we pledged to passion
And I sleep alone.
Anger ill becomes thee,
Tender-souled Gyrinno,
Shapelier is Dica
But less loved by me.
Art thou still relentless,
Wilful one, annulling
All thy protestations
In the fervid past?
Can it, O Charites,
Be thou hast forgotten?
Dost thou love another,
Even now, perchance?
Ah, my tears are falling,
Yet in my despairing
Mood I lie and listen
For thy furtive step;
For the lightest rustle
Of thy flowing garment,
For thy sweet and panting
Whisper at the door.
Now the moon has vanished
With the golden Pleiads;
It is after midnight
And I sleep alone.
MEGARA
Thou burnest us, Megara,
With thy passions wild;
Bringing from Panormus
Such unbridled fires.
Thou burnest us, a supple
Flow of tortured flame,
Raging, biting, searing,
Lawless of the will.
Thou burnest us, Megara,
Love must know reserve,
Curbing power to keep it
Keener for restraint.
ERINNA
Haughtier than thou, O fair Erinna,
I have never met with any maiden.
Such a careless scorn as thine for passion
Proves a dire affront to Aphrodite.
When with soft desire she wounds thy bosom,
Thou shalt know love's pain and doubly suffer.
Keep the gifts I gave thee, long rejected;
Fabrics for thy lap from far Phocea,
Babylonian unguents, scented sandals,
And the costly mitra for thy tresses;
Tripods worked in brass to flank the altar
With the ivory figure of the Goddess;
Where the sacrificial fumes from sacred
Flames shall rise to gladden and appease her,
In the hour when at her call thy fervid
Breast and mouth to mine shall be relinquished.
GONGYLA
It was when the sunset
Burned with saffron fire,
And Apollo's coursers
Turned below the hills,
That on Mitylene's
Marble bridge we met,
Gongyla, thou golden
Maid of Colophon.
Like the breath of morning
Or a breeze from sea,
Fresh thy beauty smote me,
Virile of the north.
Startled by thy vision,
Transports half divine
Flooded veins and bosom,
Shook me with desire.
Soon the kinder sunglow
Of Æolic lands
Melted all the futile
Snows about thy heart.
DAMOPHYLA
Cold of heart and strangely
Uninclined to passion,
Wisdom's vigil leaves thee,
Proud Damophyla.
Sapphics thou hast written,
Verses in my metre,
With a skill surpassing
In the melic art.
Love's superb enchantment
Thou art fain to banish,
Like the virgin Huntress
Long by thee adored.
Molded by thy tunic,
Every arching contour
Of her chaste and noble
Form I dream to see;
Even view her stepping
From the leafy covert
Down the dawn-white valley,
Stately as a stag.
Long I sued but found thee
Deaf to all entreaty,
Till one summer twilight
Listless in the heat;
Soothed by slumber's languor,
And my low monodic
Voice that hymned a paean
In the praise of love;
Loth to yield yet vanquished,
As I knelt beside thee,
All thy long resistance
To my kiss succumbed.
ANAGORA
Anagora, fairest
Spoil of fateful battle,
Babylonian temples
Knew thy luring song.
Wrested from barbaric
Captors for thy beauty,
Thou wert made a priestess
At Mylitta's shrine.
Once these flexile fingers
Clasped in mine so closely,
Neath the temple's arches
Thrummed the tabor soft.
Thou hast taught me secrets
Of the cryptic chambers,
How the zonahs worship
In the burning East;
Raptures that my wildest
Dreaming never pictured,
Arts of love that charmed me,
Subtle, new and strange.
Hearken to my earnest
Prayer, O Aphrodite!
May the night be doubled
Now for our delight.
$/
PHILOMEL
Philomel in my garden,
Messenger sweet of springtide,
From the bough of the olive tree utter
Tidings ecstatic.
Linger long on thy olden
Note as in days remembered;
Ere the Boatman that knew Aphrodite
Ravished my vision.
Fatal glamor of beauty,
Beauty of Gods made mortal;
Ah, before its delight I am ever
Fearful of heaven.
Spring in breeze and the blossom,
Grasses and leaves and odors,
On my heart with the breath of a vanished
April is shaken;
Shaken with thrill and regret of
Lost caresses and kisses;
Anactoria's memory, Atthis
Never forgotten.
Philomel in my garden,
Messenger sweet of springtide,
From the bough of the olive tree utter
Tidings ecstatic.
GOLDEN PULSE
Golden pulse grew on the shore,
Ferns along the hill,
And the red cliff roses bore
Bees to drink their fill;
Bees that from the meadows bring
Wine of melilot,
Honey-sups on golden wing
To the garden grot.
But to me, neglected flower,
Phaon will not see,
Passion brings no crowning hour,
Honey nor the bee.
THE SWALLOW
Daughter of Pandion, lovely
Swallow that veers at my window,
Swift on the flood of the sunshine
Darting thy shadow;
What is thy innocent purpose,
Why dost thou hover and haunt me?
Is it a kinship of sorrow
Brings thee anear me?
Must thou forever be tongueless,
Flying in fear of Tereus?
Must he for Itys pursue thee,
Changed to a lapwing?
Tireless of pinion and never
Resting on bush or the branches,
Close to the earth, up the azure,
Over the treetops;
After thy wing in its madness
Follows my glance, as a flitting
Child on the track of its mother
Hastens in silence.
Daughter of Pandion, lovely
Swallow that veers at my window,
Hast thou a message from Cyprus
Telling of Phaon?
TIDINGS
She wrapped herself in linen woven close,
Stuffs delicate and texture-fine as those
The dark Nile traders for our bartering
From Egypt, Crete and far Phocea bring.
Love lent her feet the wings of winds to reach
(Whose steps stir not the shingle of the beach)
My marble court and, breathless, bid me know
My lover's sails across the harbor blow.
He seemed to her, as to himself he seems,
Like some bright God long treasured in her dreams;
She saw him standing at his galley's prow—
My Phaon, mine, in Mitylene now!
HESPERUS
Hesperus shines
Low on the eastern wave,
Off toward the Asian shore;
Over faint lines
Whose grays and purples pave
Where seas night-calmed adore.
Fair vesper fire,
Fairest of stars, the light
Benign of secret bliss;
Star of desire,
Bringing to me with night
Dreams and my Phaon's kiss.
DAWN
Just now the golden-sandalled Dawn
Peered through the lattice of my room;
Why must thou fare so soon, my Phaon?
Last night I met thee at the shore,
A thousand hues were in the sky;
The breeze from Cyprus blew, my Phaon!
I drew, to lave thy heated brow,
My kerchief dripping from the sea;
Why hadst thou sailed so far, my Phaon?
Far up the narrow mountain paths
We heard the shepherds fluting home;
Like some white God thou seemed, my Phaon!
And through the olive trees we saw
The twinkle of my vesper lamp;
Wilt kiss me now as then, my Phaon?
Nay, loosen not with gentle force
The clasp of my restraining arms;
I will not let thee go, my Phaon!
See, deftly in my trailing robe
I spring and draw the lattice close;
Is it not night again, my Phaon?
THE FAREWELL
Beloved, stand face to face,
And, lifting lids, disclose to me the grace,
The Paphic fire that lingers yet and lies
Reflected in thy eyes.
Phaon, my sole beloved,
Stand not to my mad passion all unmoved;
O let, ere thou to far Panormus sail,
One hour of love prevail.
Dear ingrate, come and let
Thy breath like odor from a cassolet,
Thy smile, the clinging touch of lips and heart
Anoint me, ere we part.
Phaon, I yearn and seek
But thee alone; and what I feel must speak
In all these fond and wilful ways of mine,
O mortal, made divine!
My girl friends now no more
Hang their sweet gifts of garlands at my door;
Dear maids, with all your vanished empery
Ye now are naught to me.
Phaon, thy galley rides
Within the harbor's mouth and waits the tides
And favoring winds, far to the west to fly
And leave me here to die.
The brawny rowers lean
To bend long-stroking oars; and changing scene
And fairer loves than mine shall soon efface
This last divine embrace.
Phaon, the lifting breeze!
See, at thy feet I kneel and clasp thy knees!
Go not, go not! O hear my sobbing prayer,
And yield to my despair!
DARK-EYED SLEEP
Dark-eyed Sleep, child of Night,
Come in thy shadow garment to my couch,
And with thy soothing touch,
Cool as the vesper breeze,
Grant that I may forget;
Bestow condign release,
A taste of rest that comes with endless sleep;
Lure off the haunting dreams,
The dire Eumenides
That torture my repose.
For I would live a space
Though Phaon has forsaken me, nor yet
Be found on shadow fields
Among the lilies tall
Of pale Persephone.
THE CLIFF OF LEUCAS
Afar-seen cliff
Stands in the western sea
Toward Cephallenian lands.
Apollo's temple crowns
Its whitened crest,
And at its base
The waves eternal beat.
Its leap has power
To cure the pangs
Of unrequited love.
Thither pale lovers go
With anguished hearts
To dare the deep and quench
Love's slow consuming flame.
Urged to the edge
By maddening desire,
I, too, shall fling myself
Imploring thee,
Apollo, lord and king!
Into the chill
Embraces of the sea,
Less cold than thine, O Phaon,
I shall fall—
Fall with the flutter of a wounded dove;
And I shall rise
Indifferent forever to love's dream,
Or find below
The sea's eternal voice,
Eternal peace.
THE DUST OF TIMAS
This is the dust of Timas! Here inurned
Rest the dear ashes where so late had burned
Her spirit's flame. She perished, gentle maid,
Before her bridal day and now a shade,
Silent and sad, she evermore must be
In the dark chamber of Persephone.
When life had faded with the flower and leaf,
Each girl friend sweet, in token of her grief,
Resigned her severed locks with bended head,
Beauty's fair tribute to the lovely dead.
THE PRIESTESS OF ARTEMIS
Maidens, that pass my tomb with laughter sweet,
A voice unresting echoes at your feet;
Pause, and if any would my story seek,
Dumb as I am, these graven words will speak;
Once in the vanished years it chanced to please
Arista, daughter of Hermocleides,
To dedicate my life in virgin bliss
To thee, revered of women, Artemis!
O Goddess, deign to bless my grandsire's line,
For Saon was a temple priest of thine;
And grant, O Queen, in thy benefic grace,
Unending fame and fortune to his race.
PELAGON
Above the lowly grave of Pelagon,
Ill-fated fisher lad, Meniscus' son,
His father placed as sign of storm and strife
The weel and oar, memorial of his life.
SAPPHICS
THE MUSES
MUSAGETES
LOVE'S BANQUET
MOON AND STARS
ODE TO ANACTORIA
THE ROSE
ODE TO APHRODITE
SUMMER
THE GARDEN OF THE NYMPHS
APHRODITE'S DOVES
ANACREON'S SONG
THE DAUGHTER OF CYPRUS
THE DISTAFF
THE SLEEP WIND
THE REPROACH
LONG AGO
EPITHALAMIA: THRENODES
HYMENAIOS
BRIDAL SONG
EPITHALAMIUM
PIERIA'S ROSE
LAMENT FOR ADONIS
THE STRICKEN FLOWER
DEATH
PERSEPHONE
PARTHENEIA: DIDAKTIKA
MAIDENHOOD
EVER MAIDEN
CLËIS
ASPIRATION
HERO, OF GYARA
COURAGE
THE BOAST OF ARES
GOLD
GNOMICS
PRIDE
LETO AND NIOBE
THE DYE
EROTIKA: DITHYRAMBS
HYMN TO PAPHIA
EROS
PASSION
APHRODITE'S PRAISE
THE FIRST KISS
ODE TO ATTHIS
COMPARISON
THE SACRIFICE
LEDA
AMŒBEUM: ALCÆUS AND SAPPHO
THE LOVE OF SELENE
THE CRETAN DANCE
TO ALCÆUS
HYPORCHEME
LARICHUS
SPRING
GIRL FRIENDS
PRELUDE
ANDROMEDA
EUNEICA
GORGO
MNASIDICA
TELESIPPA
GYRINNO
MEGARA
ERINNA
GONGYLA
DAMOPHYLA
ANAGORA
PHAON
PHILOMEL
GOLDEN PULSE
THE SWALLOW
TIDINGS
HESPERUS
DAWN
THE FAREWELL
DARK-EYED SLEEP
THE CLIFF OF LEUCAS
EPIGRAMS
THE DUST OF TIMAS
THE PRIESTESS OF ARTEMIS
PELAGON
SAPPHO AND HER COMPANIONS