Sappho: One Hundred Lyrics, Bliss Carman [books you need to read TXT] 📗

Art thou the topmost apple

LIV How soon will all my lovely days be over

LV Soul of sorrow, why this weeping?

LVI It never can be mine

LVII Others shall behold the sun

LVIII Let thy strong spirit never fear

LIX Will none say of Sappho

LX When I have departed

LXI There is no more to say, now thou art still

LXII Play up, play up thy silver flute

LXIII A beautiful child is mine

LXIV Ah, but now henceforth

LXV Softly the wind moves through the radiant morning

LXVI What the west wind whispers

LXVII Indoors the fire is kindled

LXVIII You ask how love can keep the mortal soul

LXIX Like a tall forest were their spears

LXX My lover smiled, "O friend, ask not

LXXI Ye who have the stable world

LXXII I heard the gods reply

LXXIII The sun on the tide, the peach on the bough

LXXIV If death be good

LXXV Tell me what this life means

LXXVI Ye have heard how Marsyas

LXXVII Hour by hour I sit

LXXVIII Once in the shining street

LXXIX How strange is love, O my lover

LXXX How to say I love you

LXXXI Hark, love, to the tambourines

LXXXII Over the roofs the honey-coloured moon

LXXXIII In the quiet garden world

LXXXIV Soft was the wind in the beech-trees

LXXXV Have ye heard the news of Sappho's garden

LXXXVI Love is so strong a thing

LXXXVII Hadst thou with all thy loveliness been true

LXXXVIII As on a morn a traveller might emerge

LXXXIX Where shall I look for thee

XC O sad, sad face and saddest eyes that ever

XCI Why have the gods in derision

XCII Like a red lily in the meadow grasses

XCIII When in the spring the swallows all return

XCIV Cold is the wind where Daphne sleeps

XCV Hark, where Poseidon's

XCVI Hark, my lover, it is spring!

XCVII When the early soft spring-wind comes blowing

XCVIII I am more tremulous than shaken reeds

XCIX Over the wheat field

C Once more the rain on the mountain

Epilogue

SAPPHO I

Cyprus, Paphos, or Panormus
May detain thee with their splendour
Of oblations on thine altars,
O imperial Aphrodite.

Yet do thou regard, with pity 5
For a nameless child of passion,
This small unfrequented valley
By the sea, O sea-born mother.

II

What shall we do, Cytherea?
Lovely Adonis is dying.
  Ah, but we mourn him!

Will he return when the Autumn
Purples the earth, and the sunlight 5
  Sleeps in the vineyard?

Will he return when the Winter
Huddles the sheep, and Orion
  Goes to his hunting?

Ah, but thy beauty, Adonis, 10
With the soft spring and the south wind,
  Love and desire!

III

Power and beauty and knowledge,—
Pan, Aphrodite, or Hermes,—
Whom shall we life-loving mortals
  Serve and be happy?

Lo now, your garlanded altars, 5
Are they not goodly with flowers?
Have ye not honour and pleasure
  In lovely Lesbos?

Will ye not, therefore, a little
Hearten, impel, and inspire 10
One who adores, with a favour
  Threefold in wonder?

IV

O Pan of the evergreen forest,
Protector of herds in the meadows,
Helper of men at their toiling,—
Tillage and harvest and herding,—
How many times to frail mortals 5
  Hast thou not hearkened!

Now even I come before thee
With oil and honey and wheat-bread,
Praying for strength and fulfilment
Of human longing, with purpose 10
Ever to keep thy great worship
  Pure and undarkened.

* * * * *

O Hermes, master of knowledge,
Measure and number and rhythm,
Worker of wonders in metal, 15
Moulder of malleable music,
So often the giver of secret
  Learning to mortals!

Now even I, a fond woman,
Frail and of small understanding, 20
Yet with unslakable yearning
Greatly desiring wisdom,
Come to the threshold of reason
  And the bright portals.

* * * * *

And thou, sea-born Aphrodite, 25
In whose beneficent keeping
Earth, with her infinite beauty,
Colour and fashion and fragrance,
Glows like a flower with fervour
  Where woods are vernal! 30

Touch with thy lips and enkindle
This moon-white delicate body,
Drench with the dew of enchantment
This mortal one, that I also
Grow to the measure of beauty 35
  Fleet yet eternal.

V

O Aphrodite,
God-born and deathless,
Break not my spirit
With bitter anguish:
Thou wilful empress, 5
I pray thee, hither!

As once aforetime
Well thou didst hearken
To my voice far off,—
Listen, and leaving 10
Thy father's golden
House in yoked chariot,

Come, thy fleet sparrows
Beating the mid-air
Over the dark earth. 15
Suddenly near me,
Smiling, immortal,
Thy bright regard asked

What had befallen,—
Why I had called thee,— 20
What my mad heart then
Most was desiring.
"What fair thing wouldst thou
Lure now to love thee?

"Who wrongs thee, Sappho? 25
If now she flies thee,
Soon shall she follow;—
Scorning thy gifts now,
Soon be the giver;—
And a loth loved one 30

"Soon be the lover."
So even now, too,
Come and release me
From mordant love pain,
And all my heart's will 35
Help me accomplish!

VI

Peer of the gods he seems,
Who in thy presence
Sits and hears close to him
Thy silver speech-tones
And lovely laughter. 5

Ah, but the heart flutters
Under my bosom,
When I behold thee
Even a moment;
Utterance leaves me;