Sleep, darling

(Sing the Hymen-refrain!)Ye builders, of the bridal-dwelling!(Sing the Hymen-refrain!)Lo, the bridegroom comes, as the War-god tall —(Sing the Hymen-refrain!)Now nay — yet our tallest in stature excelling;(Sing the Hymen-refrain!)For stately he towers above all the throngAs the Lesbian singer towers amongAll alien poets, a prince of song.O happy bridegroom! it cometh to-day,The bridal thine heart…

can’t finish myweavingYou mayblame Aphroditesoft as she isshe has almostkilled me withlove for that boySapphotr. Barnard

are unbecmoming ina poet’s household?and that they are notsuitable in ours?[Note: ‘A poet’s household’ is more litterally one ‘dedicated to the Muses.’]

For the rose, ho, the rose! is the grace of the earth,Is the light of the plants that are growing upon it!For the rose, ho, the rose! is the eye of the flowers,Is the blush of the meadows that feel themselves fair,Is the lightning of beauty that strikes through the bowersOn pale lovers that sit…

With this sorrow, with this anguish, break my spiritLady, not longer!Hear anew the voice! O hear and listen!Come, as in that island dawn thou camest,Billowing in thy yoked car to SapphoForth from thy father’sGolden house in pity! … I remember:Fleet and fair thy sparrows drew thee, beatingFast their wings above the dusky harvests,Down the pale…

this: someone insome future timewill think of us

fault, may sillinessand sorrow take him!

When gazing full she fills the gladeAnd spreads the seas with silvery light.

And pluck them, singing.More golden than all gold your tresses are:Never was harp-note like your voice, my love,Your voice sweet-ringing.

For the rose, ho, the rose! is the grace of the earth,Is the light of the plants that are growing upon it!For the rose, ho, the rose! is the eye of the flowers,Is the blush of the meadows that feel themselves fair,Is the lightning of beauty that strikes through the bowersOn pale lovers that sit…

swoops on an oakLove shakes my heart

On rich attire, on jewel-hoard,On dross of thine ill-gotten pelf,On carcanet and flashing ring,On meats and wines that load thy board!Ay, cup on cup past numberingThou drainest with the drunken! Fool,Who hast not learnt in wisdom’s schoolThat wealth is an accursed thingDislinked from goodness! Only whenThese twain are wedded, happinessTrue and abiding comes to blessThe…