Cool murmur of water through apple-wood

swoops on an oakLove shakes my heart

All things that morning has scattered with fingers of gold,All things thou bringest, O Evening! at last to the fold.

Or haply on another shineThe eyes that once looked into minePretence of love — all faithlesslyOut! nought I careFor such as can true love betray!Love on, forsworn, your little day:Ye are nought to me.

we have the gods’word for it; they toowould die if deathwere a good thing

Sights on earth: I say that my love of all isSweetest and rarest.Hear the proof, which lightly, I wot, convinces: —‘Mid the comely, Helen would fain discoverOne without peer, and of the goodly princesChose for her loverHim who brought the glory of Troy to ruin!Reckless all of parent and child, she lavishedOn the alien love…

Anactoria will think often of usof the life we shared here, when you seemedthe Goddess incarnateto her and your singing pleased her bestNow among Lydian women she in herturn stands first as the red-fingered moon rising at sunset takesprecedence over stars around her;her light spreads equallyon the salt sea and fields thick with bloomDelicious dew…