Whose ears thy tongue’s sweet melody
May still devour.
Thou smilest too!–sweet smile, whose charm
Has struck my soul with wild alarm,
And, when I see thee, bids disarm
Each vital power.
Speechless I gaze: the flame within
Runs swift o’er all my quivering skin:
My eyeballs swim; with dizzy din
My brain reels round;
And cold drops fall; and tremblings frail
Seize every limb; and grassy pale
I grow; and then–together fail
Both sight and sound.
Vowed by the daughter of Hermocleides,Who was the son of Saonaïades.O virgin queen, unto my prayer incline,Bless him and cast thy blessing on our line.
She found her bridal home to beThe dark house of Persephone.And many maidens, knowing thenThat she would not come back again,Unbound their curls; and all in tears,They cut them off with sharpened shears.
waiting where the grove ispleasantest, by precinctssacred to you; incensesmokes on the altar, coldstreams murmur through theapple branches, a youngrose thicket shades the groundand quivering leaves pourdown deep sleep; in meadowswhere horses have grown sleekamong spring flowers, dillscents the air. Queen! Cyprian!Fill our gold cups with lovestirred into clear nectarSapphotr. Barnard
And some in graceful measureThe well-loved spot danced round,With lightsome footsteps treadingThe soft and grassy ground.
A-top on the topmost twig–which the pluckers forgot, somehow–Forget it not, nay, but got it not, for none could get it till now.IILike the wild hyacinth flower which on the hills is found,Which the passing feet of the shepherds for ever tear and wound,Until the purple blossom is trodden in the ground.
For all men, and for ever, memorials there to beOf the luckless life of the fisher, the labourer of the sea.
