Sappho: One Hundred Lyrics | Page 5

curly-headed boy from Naxos?With his jade flute marks the purple quiet.
XXI
Softly the first step of twilight?Falls on the darkening dial,?One by one kindle the lights?In Mitylene.
Noises are hushed in the courtyard, 5 The busy day is departing,?Children are called from their games,--?Herds from their grazing.
And from the deep-shadowed angles?Comes the soft murmur of lovers, 10 Then through the quiet of dusk?Bright sudden laughter.
From the hushed street, through the portal,?Where soon my lover will enter,?Comes the pure strain of a flute 15 Tender with passion.
XXII
Once you lay upon my bosom,?While the long blue-silver moonlight?Walked the plain, with that pure passion?All your own.
Now the moon is gone, the Pleiads 5 Gone, the dead of night is going;?Slips the hour, and on my bed?I lie alone.
XXIII
I loved thee, Atthis, in the long ago,?When the great oleanders were in flower?In the broad herded meadows full of sun.?And we would often at the fall of dusk?Wander together by the silver stream, 5 When the soft grass-heads were all wet with dew,?And purple-misted in the fading light.?And joy I knew and sorrow at thy voice,?And the superb magnificence of love,--?The loneliness that saddens solitude, 10 And the sweet speech that makes it durable,--?The bitter longing and the keen desire,?The sweet companionship through quiet days?In the slow ample beauty of the world,?And the unutterable glad release 15 Within the temple of the holy night.?O Atthis, how I loved thee long ago?In that fair perished summer by the sea!
XXIV
I shall be ever maiden,?If thou be not my lover,?And no man shall possess me?Henceforth and forever.
But thou alone shalt gather 5 This fragile flower of beauty,--?To crush and keep the fragrance?Like a holy incense.
Thou only shalt remember?This love of mine, or hallow 10 The coming years with gladness,?Calm and pride and passion.
XXV
It was summer when I found you?In the meadow long ago,--?And the golden vetch was growing?By the shore.
Did we falter when love took us 5 With a gust of great desire??Does the barley bid the wind wait?In his course?
XXVI
I recall thy white gown, cinctured?With a linen belt, whereon?Violets were wrought, and scented?With strange perfumes out of Egypt.
And I know thy foot was covered 5 With fair Lydian broidered straps;?And the petals from a rose-tree?Fell within the marble basin.
XXVII
Lover, art thou of a surety?Not a learner of the wood-god??Has the madness of his music?Never touched thee?
Ah, thou dear and godlike mortal, 5 If Pan takes thee for his pupil,?Make me but another Syrinx?For that piping.
XXVIII
With your head thrown backward?In my arm's safe hollow,?And your face all rosy?With the mounting fervour;
While the grave eyes greaten 5 With the wise new wonder,?Swimming in a love-mist?Like the haze of Autumn;
From that throat, the throbbing?Nightingale's for pleading, 10 Wayward, soft, and welling?Inarticulate love-notes,
Come the words that bubble?Up through broken laughter,?Sweeter than spring-water, 15 "Gods, I am so happy!"
XXIX
Ah, what am I but a torrent,?Headstrong, impetuous, broken,?Like the spent clamour of waters?In the blue canyon?
Ah, what art thou but a fern-frond, 5 Wet with blown spray from the river,?Diffident, lovely, sequestered,?Frail on the rock-ledge?
Yet, are we not for one brief day,?While the sun sleeps on the mountain, 10 Wild-hearted lover and loved one,?Safe in Pan's keeping?
XXX
Love shakes my soul, like a mountain wind?Falling upon the trees,?When they are swayed and whitened and bowed?As the great gusts will.
I know why Daphne sped through the grove 5 When the bright god came by,?And shut herself in the laurel's heart?For her silent doom.
Love fills my heart, like my lover's breath?Filling the hollow flute, 10 Till the magic wood awakes and cries?With remembrance and joy.
Ah, timid Syrinx, do I not know?Thy tremor of sweet fear??For a beautiful and imperious player 15 Is the lord of life.
XXXI
Love, let the wind cry?On the dark mountain,?Bending the ash-trees?And the tall hemlocks,?With the great voice of 5 Thunderous legions,?How I adore thee.
Let the hoarse torrent?In the blue canyon,?Murmuring mightily 10 Out of the grey mist?Of primal chaos,?Cease not proclaiming?How I adore thee.
Let the long rhythm 15 Of crunching rollers,?Breaking and bellowing?On the white seaboard,?Titan and tireless,?Tell, while the world stands, 20 How I adore thee.
Love, let the clear call?Of the tree-cricket,?Frailest of creatures,?Green as the young grass, 25 Mark with his trilling?Resonant bell-note,?How I adore thee.
Let the glad lark-song?Over the meadow, 30 That melting lyric?Of molten silver,?Be for a signal?To listening mortals,?How I adore thee. 35
But more than all sounds,?Surer, serener,?Fuller with passion?And exultation,?Let the hushed whisper 40 In thine own heart say,?How I adore thee.
XXXII
Heart of mine, if all the altars?Of the ages stood before me,?Not one pure enough nor sacred?Could I find to lay this white, white?Rose of love upon. 5
I who am not great enough to?Love thee with this mortal body?So impassionate with ardour,?But oh, not too small to worship?While the sun shall shine,-- 10
I would build a fragrant temple?To thee, in the dark green forest,?Of red cedar and