SAPPHO
Sweet Sappho! Peerless Pagan queen of song!
To thee does immortality belong!
Fair central glory of the Lesbian Isle
And art's soft wile.
To thee does immortality belong!
Fair central glory of the Lesbian Isle
And art's soft wile.
Thou didst pour out in Greek, thy native tongue,
The sweetest songs, that in thy day were sung!
And all did own, that genius rare of thine,
Wholly divine!
The sweetest songs, that in thy day were sung!
And all did own, that genius rare of thine,
Wholly divine!
Thou wert among the Lesbian maidens fair,—
Though small, and dark, and crowned with dusky hair,
(Because of thy sweet soul) the fairest one
'neath Lesbian sun.
Though small, and dark, and crowned with dusky hair,
(Because of thy sweet soul) the fairest one
'neath Lesbian sun.
In thy sweet youth, among thy girl friends fair,
Didst weave of violets and maidenhair
Full many a garland in thy leisure hours
In leafy bowers.—
Didst weave of violets and maidenhair
Full many a garland in thy leisure hours
In leafy bowers.—
For thou didst love to see thus garlanded
The Lesbian maidens, who by thee were led
In paths of music and the art divine
Where thou didst shine.
The Lesbian maidens, who by thee were led
In paths of music and the art divine
Where thou didst shine.
And very lovely was thy native isle,
Where blossoms opened 'neath the golden smile
Of southern suns—of many forms and hues
Drenched in soft dews.
Where blossoms opened 'neath the golden smile
Of southern suns—of many forms and hues
Drenched in soft dews.
But yet, for thee, the rose was queen of flowers—
The fairest far, that bloomed in southern bowers:
Where nightingales made glorious in May
The close of day.
The fairest far, that bloomed in southern bowers:
Where nightingales made glorious in May
The close of day.
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