Fiddler's Farewell/Hyacinths

by Leonora Speyer

Hyacinths

Leda, they say, once found an egg
Hidden under hyacinths . . .
 
. . . much whiter than an egg . . .
Sappho

Did she pluck it from the curly flowers;
Make a nest
Of her long light hair?

Or did she slip the white thing in her breast,
As smooth, as fair?
Lie smiling through the hours?
(Proudly aware
Of tiny flutterings,
Knowing well
What she guarded there,
Hidden within the shell!)

Did she dream of powerful white wings
That beat upon her like a milky tide—
Again—again—?
Did she swoon beneath a dream of hyacinths?

And then,
Did the shell open wide
Under her crying kiss?

I with children at my side,
Ponder so on this.