Poems (Ripley)/Sappho
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.
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!
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.
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.—
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.
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.
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.
And on the shores of the Aegean Sea, Which circled all thy native isle and thee— Thy beauty-loving soul didst gaze upon The shells thereon—
And marvel at their tinted loveliness.—The while, perchance, 'neath green trees' leafiness Thou soughtest the bath in cool, deep tideless sea, Thy maids and thee.
And as through spicy grove and flower-strewn glade, Thou didst retrace thy steps—from out the shade Tall marble statues gleamed along thy way In snowy array.
And temples strewn with precious jewels and gold And broideries, and cups of matchless mould, Where thou didst worship at the Pagan shrine Both thee and thine.
Ah, thou didst sing of love, till on thee fell The glamour of it. Then thou didst seek to quell Its conquering force, because to thee it came— Unsought—it came.
And all thy radiant life was filled with care.—The burden was too great for thee to bear, And thou didst lay aside thy golden lyre, Once thy desire.
Then thou didst learn the deathlessness of love, And summoned Aphrodite from above, And thou didst plead with her in piteous prayer— With Venus fair.
What mattered wealth to thee, or world's applause? Sweet rest thou couldst not find. Then thou didst pause Upon the rocks and thy bright soul didst free Deep in the sea.