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Title: The Poems of Sappho

Subtitle: An Interpretative Rendition into English

Author: Sappho

Release Date: February 22, 2013 [EBook #42166]

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Heather Strickland & Marc D'Hooghe at http://www.freeliterature.org (Images generously made available by the Internet Archive)

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ***

The Poems of Sappho

An Interpretative Rendition into English

BY

JOHN MYERS O'HARA

PORTLAND: MDCCCCX

SAPPHO AND HER COMPANIONS

Contents

Who shall strike the wax of mystery from those priceless amphoræ, and give to the unsophisticated nostrils of the average reader the ravishing bouquet of wine pressed in a garden in Mitylene, twenty-five centuries ago?—MAURICE THOMPSON.

Then to me so lying awake a vision

Came without sleep over the seas and touched me,

Softly touched mine eyelids and lips; and I, too,

Full of the vision,

Saw the white implacable Aphrodite,

Saw the hair unbound and the feet unsandalled

Shine as fire of sunset on western waters;

Saw the reluctant

Feet, the straining plumes of the doves that drew her,

Looking always, looking with necks reverted

Back to Lesbos, back to the hills whereunder

Shone Mitylene.

—SWINBURNE.

Ω θεόί, πίς ἆρα Κύπρις, ἢ τίς μερος

τοῡδε ξνυήψατο

—SOPHOCLES.

SAPPHICS

THE MUSES

Hither now, O Muses, leaving the golden

House of God unseen in the azure spaces,

Come and breathe on bosom and brow and kindle

Song like the sunglow;

Come and lift my shaken soul to the sacred

Shadow cast by Helicon's rustling forests;

Sweep on wings of flame from the middle ether,

Seize and uplift me;

Thrill my heart that throbs with unwonted fervor,

Chasten mouth and throat with immortal kisses,

Till I yield on maddening heights the very

Breath of my body.

MUSAGETES

Come with Musagetes, ye Hours and Graces,

Dance around the team of swans that attend him

Up Parnassian heights, to his holy temple

High on the hill-top;

Come, ye Muses, too, from the shades of Pindus,

Let your songs, that echo on winds of rapture,

Wake the lyre he tunes to the sweet inspiring

Sound of your voices.

LOVE'S BANQUET

If Panormus, Cyprus or Paphos hold thee,

Either home of Gods or the island temple,

Hark again and come at my invocation,

Goddess benefic;

Come thou, foam-born Kypris, and pour in dainty

Cups of amber gold thy delicate nectar,

Subtly mixed with fire that will swiftly kindle

Love in our bosoms;

Thus the bowl ambrosial was stirred in Paphos

For the feast, and taking the burnished ladle,

Hermes poured the wine for the Gods who lifted

Reverent beakers;

High they held their goblets and made libation,

Spilling wine as pledge to the Fates and Hades

Quaffing deep and binding their hearts to Eros,

Lauding thy servant.

So to me and my Lesbians round me gathered,

Each made mine, an amphor of love long tasted,

Bid us drink, who sigh for thy thrill ecstatic,

Passion's full goblet;

Grant me this, O Kypris, and on thy altar

Dawn will see a goat of the breed of Naxos,

Snowy doves from Cos and the drip of rarest

Lesbian vintage;

For a regal taste is mine and the glowing

Zenith-lure and beauty of suns must brighten

Love for me, that ever upon perfection

Trembles elusive.

MOON AND STARS

When the moon at full on the sill of heaven

Lights her beacon, flooding the earth with silver,

All the shining stars that about her cluster

Hide their fair faces;

So when Anactoria's beauty dazzles

Sight of mine, grown dim with the joy it gives me,

Gorgo, Atthis, Gyrinno, all the others

Fade from my vision.

ODE TO ANACTORIA

Peer of Gods to me is the man thy presence

Crowns with joy; who hears, as he sits beside thee,

Accents sweet of thy lips the silence breaking,

With lovely laughter;

Tones that make the heart in my bosom flutter,

For if I, the space of a moment even,

Near to thee come, any word I would utter

Instantly fails me;

Vain my stricken tongue would a whisper fashion,

Subtly under my skin runs fire ecstatic;

Straightway mists surge dim to my eyes and leave them

Reft of their vision;

Echoes ring in my ears; a trembling seizes

All my body bathed in soft perspiration;

Pale as grass I grow in my passion's madness,

Like one insensate;

But must I dare all, since to me unworthy,

Bliss thy beauty brings that a God might envy;

Never yet was fervid woman a fairer

Image of Kypris.

Ah! undying Daughter of God, befriend me!

Calm my blood that thrills with impending transport;

Feed my lips the murmur of words to stir her

Bosom to pity;

Overcome with kisses her faintest protest,

Melt her mood to mine with amorous touches,

Till her low assent and her sigh's abandon

Lure me to rapture.

THE ROSE

If it pleased the whim of Zeus in an idle

Hour to choose a king for the flowers, he surely

Would have crowned the rose for its regal beauty,

Deeming it peerless;

By its grace is valley and hill embellished,

Earth is made a shrine for the lover's ardor;

Dear it is to flowers as the charm of lovely

Eyes are to mortals;

Joy and pride of plants, and the garden's glory,

Beauty's blush it brings to the cheek of meadows;

Draining fire and dew from the dawn for rarest

Color and odor;

Softly breathed, its scent is a plea for passion,

When it blooms to welcome the kiss of Kypris;

Sheathed in fragrant leaves its tremulous petals

Laugh in the zephyr.

ODE TO APHRODITE

Aphrodite, subtle of soul and deathless,

Daughter of God, weaver of wiles, I pray thee

Neither with care, dread Mistress, nor with anguish,

Slay thou my spirit!

But in pity hasten, come now if ever

From afar of old when my voice implored thee,

Thou hast deigned to listen, leaving the golden

House of thy father

With thy chariot yoked; and with doves that drew thee,

Fair and fleet around the dark earth from heaven,

Dipping vibrant wings down the azure distance,

Through the mid-ether;

Very swift they came; and thou, gracious Vision,

Leaned with face that smiled in immortal beauty,

Leaned to me and asked, "What misfortune threatened?

Why I had called thee?"

"What my frenzied heart craved in utter yearning,

Whom its wild desire would persuade to passion?

What disdainful charms, madly worshipped, slight thee?

Who wrongs thee, Sappho?"

"She that fain would fly, she shall quickly follow,

She that now rejects, yet with gifts shall woo thee,

She that heeds thee not, soon shall love to madness,

Love thee, the loth one!"

Come to me now thus, Goddess, and release me

From distress and pain; and all my distracted

Heart would seek, do thou, once again fulfilling,

Still be my ally!

SUMMER

Slumber streams from quivering leaves that listless

Bask in heat and stillness of Lesbian summer;

Breathless swoons the air with the apple-blossoms'

Delicate odor;

From the shade of branches that droop and cover

Shallow trenches winding about the orchard,

Restful comes, and cool to the sense, the flowing

Murmur of water.

THE GARDEN OF THE NYMPHS

All around through the apple boughs in blossom

Murmur cool the breezes of early summer,

And from leaves that quiver above me gently

Slumber is shaken;

Glades of poppies swoon in the drowsy languor,

Dreaming roses bend, and the oleanders

Bask and nod to drone of bees in the silent

Fervor of noontide;

Myrtle coverts hedging the open vista,

Dear to nightly frolic of Nymph and Satyr,

Yield a mossy bed for the brown and weary

Limbs of the shepherd.

Echo ever wafts through the drooping frondage,

Ceaseless silver murmur of water falling

In the grotto cool of the Nymphs, the sacred

Haunt of Immortals;

Down the sides of rocks that are gray and lichened

Trickle tiny rills, whose expectant tinkle

Drips with gurgle hushed in the clear glimmering

Depths of the basin.

Fair on royal couches of leaves recumbent,

Interspersed with languor of waxen lilies,

Lotus flowers empurple the pool whose edge is

Cushioned with mosses;

Here recline the Nymphs at the hour of twilight,

Back in shadows dim of the cave, their golden

Sea-green eyes half lidded, up to their supple

Waists in the water.

Sheltered once by ferns I espied them binding

Tresses long, the tint of lilac and orange;

Just beyond the shimmer of light their bodies

Roseate glistened;

Deftly, then, they girdled their loins with garlands,

Linked with leaves luxuriant limb and shoulder;

On their breasts they bruised the red blood of roses

Fresh from the garden.

She of orange hair was the Nymph Euxanthis,

And the lilac-tressed were Iphis and Io;

How they laughed, relating at length their ease in

Evading the Satyr.

APHRODITE'S DOVES

When the drifting gray of the vesper shadow

Dimmed their upward path through the midmost azure,

And the length of night overtook them distant

Far from Olympus;

Far away from splendor and joy of Paphos,

From the voice and smile of their peerless Mistress,

Back to whom their truant wings were in rapture

Speeding belated;

Chilled at heart and grieving they drooped their pinions,

Circled slowly, dipping in flight toward Lesbos,

Down through dusk that darkened on Mitylene's

Columns of marble;

Down through glory wan of the fading sunset,

Veering ever toward the abode of Sappho,

Toward my home, the fane of the glad devoted

Slave of the Goddess;

Soon they gained the tile of my roof and rested,

Slipped their heads beneath their wings while I watched them

Sink to sleep and dreams, in the warm and drowsy

Night of midsummer.

ANACREON'S SONG

Golden-throned Muse, sing the song that in olden

Days was sung of love and delight in Teos,

In the goodly land of the lovely women:

Strains that in other

Years the hoary bard with the youthful fancy

Set to mirthful stir of flutes, when the dancing

Nymphs that poured the wine for the poet's banquet

Mixed it with kisses;

Sing the song while I, in the arms of Atthis,

Seal her lips to mine with a lover's fervor,

Breathe her breath and drink her sighs to the honeyed

Lull of the melics.

THE DAUGHTER OF CYPRUS

Dreaming I spake with the Daughter of Cyprus,

Heard the languor soft of her voice, the blended

Suave accord of tones interfused with laughter

Low and desireful;

Dreaming saw her dread ineffable beauty,

Saw through texture fine of her clinging tunic

Blush the fire of flesh, the rose of her body,

Radiant, blinding;

Saw through filmy meshes the melting lovely

Flow of line, the exquisite curves, whence piercing

Rapture reached with tangible touch to thrill me,

Almost to slay me;

Saw the gleaming foot, and the golden sandal

Held by straps of Lydian work thrice doubled

Over the instep's arch, and up the rounded

Dazzling ankle;

Saw the charms that shimmered from knee to shoulder,

Hint of hues, than milk or the snowdrift whiter;

Secret grace, the shrine of the soul of passion,

Glows that consumed me;

Saw the gathered mass of her xanthic tresses,

Mitra-bound, escape from the clasping fillet,

Float and shine as clouds in the sunset splendor,

Mists in the dawn-fire;

Saw the face immortal, and daring greatly,

Raised my eyes to hers of unfathomed azure,

Drank their world's desire, their limitless longing,

Swooned and was nothing.

THE DISTAFF

Come, ye dainty Graces and lovely Muses,

Rosy-armed and pure and with fairest tresses,

Come from groves on Helicon's hill where murmur

Founts that are holy;

Come with dancing step and with lips harmonic,

Gather near and view my ivory distaff,

Gift from Cos my brother Charaxus brought me,

Sailing from Egypt;

Sailing back to Lesbos from far Naucratis,

From the seven mouths of the Nile and Egypt

Up the blue Ægean, the island-dotted

Ocean of Hellas;

Choicest wool alone will I spin for fabrics,

Winding reel with threads for the cloths as fleecy,

Soft and fine as they bring from far Phocea,

Sidon or Sardis;

While I weave my thought shall engird the giver,

Whether here, or far on the sea, or resting

Couched in shady courts with the lovely garland

Girls of Naucratis.

THE SLEEP WIND

Softer than mists o'er the pale green of waters,

O'er the charmed sea, shod with sandals of shadow

Comes the warm sleep wind of Argolis, floating

Garlands of fragrance;

Comes the sweet wind by the still hours attended,

Touching tired lids on the shores dim with distance,

Ever its way toward the headland of Lesbos,

Toward Mitylene.

Faintly one fair star of evening enkindles

On the dusk afar its lone fire Œtean,

Shining serene till the darkness will deepen

Others to splendor;

Bringing ineffable peace, and the gladsome

Return with the night of all things that morning

Ruthlessly parted, the child to its mother,

Lover to lover.

From the marble court of rose-crowned companions,

All alone my feet again seek the little

Theatre pledged to the Muse, now deserted,

Facing the surges;

Where the carved Pan-heads that laugh down the gentle

Slope of broad steps to the refluent ripple,

Flute from their thin pipes the dithyrambs deathless,

Songs all unuttered.

Empty each seat where my girl friends acclaimed me,

Poets with names on the tiered stone engraven,

Over whose verge blooms the apple tree, drifting

Perfume and petals;

Gone Telesippa and tender Gyrinno,

Anactoria, woman divine; Atthis,

Subtlest of soul, fair Damophyla, Dica,

Maids of the Muses.

Here an hour past soul-enravished they listened

While my rapt heart breathed its pæan impassioned,

Chanted its wild prayer to thee, Aphrodite,

Daughter of Cyprus;

Now to their homes are they gone in the city,

Pensive to dream limb-relaxed while the languid

Slaves come and lift from the tresses they loosen,

Flowers that have faded.

Thou alone, Sappho, art sole with the silence,

Sole with night and dreams that are darkness, weaving

Thoughts that are sighs from the heart and their meaning

Vague as the shadow;

When the great silence shall come to thee, sad one,

Men that forget shall remember thy music,

Murmur thy name that shall steal on their passion

Soft as the sleep wind.

THE REPROACH

Kypris, hear my prayer to thee and the Nereids!

Safely bring the ship of my brother homewards,

Bring him back unharmed to the heart that loves him,

Throbbing remorseful;

Fair Immortal, banish from mind, I pray thee,

Every discord's hint that of yore estranged us;

Grant that never again dissension's hateful

Wrangle shall part us;

May he never in days to come remember

Keen reproach of mine that had grieved him sorely;

Words that broke my very heart when I heard them

Uttered by others;

Words that wounded deep and recurring often,

Bowed his head with shame at the public banquet;

Where my scorn, amid festal joy and laughter,

Sharpened the covert

Jests that stung his pride and assailed his folly,

Slave-espoused when he, a Lesbian noble,

Might have won the fairest in Mitylene,

Virgins the noblest;

Open slurs that linked his name with Doricha,

Lovely slave that Xanthes had sold in Egypt;

She whose wondrous charms the wealth of Charaxus

Ransomed from bondage.

Now that he is gone and my anger vanished,

Keen regret and grief for the pain I gave him

Pierce my heart, and fear of loss that is anguish

Darkens the daylight.

LONG AGO

Long ago beloved, thy memory, Atthis,

Saddens still my heart as the soft Æolic

Twilight deepens down on the sea, and fitful

Winds that have wandered

Over groves of myrtle at Amathonte

Waft forgotten passion on breaths of perfume.

Long ago, how madly I loved thee, Atthis!

Faithless, light-hearted

Loved one, mine no more, who lovest another

More than me; the silent flute and the faded

Garlands haunt the heart of me thou forgettest,

Long since thy lover.

EPITHALAMIA

THRENODES

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.

PARTHENEIA

DIDAKTIKA

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.

EROTIKA>

DITHYRAMBS

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.

GIRL FRIENDS

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.

$/

PHAON

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.

EPIGRAMS

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.

FINIS

INDEX

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

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Table of Contents

The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Poems of Sappho, by Sappho

The Poems of Sappho

An Interpretative Rendition into English BY

JOHN MYERS O'HARA

SAPPHICS

EPITHALAMIA THRENODES

PARTHENEIA DIDAKTIKA

EROTIKA> DITHYRAMBS

GIRL FRIENDS

PHAON

EPIGRAMS

FINIS

INDEX

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE