SAPPHO
|
|
HER
hair it floated fair and free
In the blushful evening sky;
The
purple sea
Sobbed
wearily,
To the curlew’s mournful cry;
|
5 |
Her
white feet mock’d
The
barren rock,
With their warmth and beauty and life;
Her
white hands prest
All
close her breast,
|
10 |
To
stifle its bursting strife.
The
musical sea
Sobbed
musically,
The warm wind whispered her,—"Flee:
Counsel
I thee
|
15 |
That
thou warily flee
The fair-seeming snare of the sea."
But
deeper she drank,
As
the gold sun sank,
The mist of the sea’s purple breath;
|
20 |
While
the sun’s last embrace
Lit
flame in her face,
And her eyes searched the shadows of Death.
But
the shadows are driven,
Like
night-clouds riven,
|
25 |
From
her eyes by a heaven of song,
That
trembles and floats,
In
silver-lipped notes,
From a light skiff drifting along:
All
the singers save one
|
30 |
Full-faced
to the sun,
But the one to the rim of the moon;
And
it seeméd the tune
Was
the voice of the moon,
Or the moon the embodied tune.
|
35 |
O’er
the tingling pink
Of
her eager ear’s brink
The golden melody swells,
As
a ripple’s song slips
In
the dawn-kissed lips
|
40 |
Of
listening, mimicking shells;
And
chases away—
So
enchanting the lay—
Her purpose and pain, forsooth,
Till
she sees the face,
|
45 |
In
the thin moon’s embrace,
Of the Mitylenian youth;
And
the shadows return,
And
her drooped lids burn,
And she calls to him under her breath;
|
50 |
Then
leaps to meet,
At
the cliff’s chilled feet,
The hungry embraces of Death.
And
the slumbrous sea
Wakes
tremulously,
|
55 |
And
thrills to his furthest streams;
And
a sudden glow
Through
the depths below
Gives the Nereids blissful dreams;
And
the deepest sea-graves
|
60 |
In
Leucadian caves
Are lighted with golden gleams,
As
though the sunk sun
Had
thitherward run
To pry with his fronting beams.
|
65 |
And
the musical sea
Sings
more musically
Than he ever has sung before,
And
the whole night long
His
syrenal song
|
70 |
Beguiles
the soul of the shore.
And
at peep of morrow
In
red-eyed sorrow
The Lesbian maids come by;
And
search the sand
|
75 |
Of
the rippled strand,
And the shallows remote and nigh;
But
they see the maiden
All
tenderly laid in
A coral bed deep from harms;
|
80 |
And
for all their endeavor
The
sea will not give her
From his encircling arms.
Nor
ever could they
Have
won her away,
|
85 |
For
all their Ionian cunning,
Had
not the sea-maids,
In
their emerald braids,
Who were wont to sit a-sunning
In
the sea-monarch’s smile,
|
90 |
In
their envy and guile
Upborn
her again to the shore,
Which shall gleam with the blaze of her funeral-pile,
But
throb with her song no more. |
|
|
Chorus
of Lesbian youth, singing around the funeral-pyre.
SEMI-CHORUS
I
Scatter
roses from full hands; |
95 |
| Wreathe
bright garlands; bring white heifers.
Call
sweet savors from far lands,
Borne
on wings of morning zephyrs.
SEMI-CHORUS
II
Burn,
with olives’ outpressed fatness, |
100 |
| Riches
of the swarthy bees.
Bring
to slake the thirsty embers
Wine
new-purgéd from the leas.
SEMI-CHORUS
I
Twine
the voices; wreathe the song;
Weave
a dirge of mythic numbers.
SEMI-CHORUS
II
Breathe
it high and sweet and strong, |
105 |
| For
ye will not pierce her slumbers.
CHORUS
Jove-bestowed,
thy passioned singing
O’er
the Grecian nations came;
Was
in Grecian ears a heaven,
And
in Grecian blood a flame. |
110 |
Now
thy songful lips are silent;
But
thy deathless song shall dwell
In
men’s bosoms, and its echoes
Down
far-distant ages swell.
And
forever thy sweet singing |
115 |
Rich
to hearts of men shall come,
In
its meaning and its music
A
full goblet crowned with foam.
Now
the sea lies gray and chilly
Under
the wet streaks of dawn; |
120 |
Now
the dull red embers darken,
And
their glow is almost gone:
Quench
them; pour the last libation;
Slake
them with red Lesbian wine;
In
wrought brass enclose her ashes: |
125 |
| Once
more are the Muses nine. |
|
|