Sappho: One Hundred Lyrics Part 14

Over the river-beds, Over the hills, Sounding the summons,

I shall look up and behold 25 In the door, Smiling, expectant,

Loving as ever And glad as of old, My own lost Atthis! 30

XC

A sad, sad face, and saddest eyes that ever Beheld the sun, Whence came the grief that makes of all thy beauty One sad sweet smile?

In this bright portrait, where the painter fixed them, 5 I still behold The eyes that gladdened, and the lips that loved me, And, gold on rose,

The cloud of hair that settles on one shoulder Slipped from its vest. 10 I almost hear thy Mitylenean love-song In the spring night,

When the still air was odorous with blossoms, And in the hour Thy first wild girl's-love trembled into being, 15 Glad, glad and fond.

Ah, where is all that wonder? What G.o.d's malice Undid that joy And set the seal of patient woe upon thee, O my lost love? 20

XCI

Why have the G.o.ds in derision Severed us, heart of my being?

Where have they lured thee to wander, O my lost lover?

While now I sojourn with sorrow, 5 Having remorse for my comrade, What town is blessed with thy beauty, Gladdened and prospered?

Nay, who could love as I loved thee, With whom thy beauty was mingled 10 In those spring days when the swallows Came with the south wind?

Then I became as that shepherd Loved by Selene on Latmus, Once when her own summer magic 15 Took hold upon her

With a sweet madness, and thenceforth Her mortal lover must wander Over the wide world for ever, Like one enchanted. 20

XCII

Like a red lily in the meadow gra.s.ses, Swayed by the wind and burning in the sunlight, I saw you, where the city chokes with traffic, Bearing among the pa.s.sers-by your beauty, Unsullied, wild, and delicate as a flower. 5 And then I knew, past doubt or peradventure, Our loved and mighty Eleusinian mother Had taken thought of me for her pure wors.h.i.+p, And of her favour had a.s.signed my comrade For the Great Mysteries,--knew I should find you 10 When the dusk murmured with its new-made lovers, And we be no more foolish but wise children, And well content partake of joy together, As she ordains and human hearts desire.

XCIII

When in the spring the swallows all return, And the bleak bitter sea grows mild once more, With all its thunders softened to a sigh;

When to the meadows the young green comes back, And swelling buds put forth on every bough, 5 With wild-wood odours on the delicate air;

Ah, then, in that so lovely earth wilt thou With all thy beauty love me all one way, And make me all thy lover as before?

Lo, where the white-maned horses of the surge, 10 Plunging in thunderous onset to the sh.o.r.e, Trample and break and charge along the sand!

XCIV

Cold is the wind where Daphne sleeps, That was so tender and so warm With loving,--with a loveliness Than her own laurel lovelier.

Now pipes the bitter wind for her, 5 And the snow sifts about her door, While far below her frosty hill The racing billows plunge and boom.

XCV

Hark, where Poseidon's White racing horses Trample with tumult The shelving seaboard!

Older than Saturn, 5 Older than Rhea, That mournful music, Falling and surging

With the vast rhythm Ceaseless, eternal, 10 Keeps the long tally Of all things mortal.

How many lovers Hath not its lulling Cradled to slumber With the ripe flowers, 15

Ere for our pleasure This golden summer Walked through the corn-lands In gracious splendour! 20

How many loved ones Will it not croon to, In the long spring-days Through coming ages,

When all our day-dreams 25 Have been forgotten, And none remembers Even thy beauty!

They too shall slumber In quiet places, 30 And mighty sea-sounds Call them unheeded.

XCVI

Hark, my lover, it is spring!