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THRENODY
HAVE you forgotten me,
O my beloved?
Have you deserted me
Now in the autumn?
See where the swallows fly
South o'er the ocean:
Soon will the winter wind
Sweep the Ægean.
Up from the vineyard comes
Music of laughter;
Far through the valleys they
Gather the harvest.
Westward the evening star
Sinks in the mountains;
Pale 'neath the rising moon
Lies Mytilene.
Here where the headland looks
Wide o'er the water,
I have brought laurel leaves,
Decking your barrow.
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