MODERN BOHEMIAN POETRY
121
Heart, that out of flames wast woven, out of roses and of wine,
Heart of Sappho, whence by Eros lyric melodies were blent,
Where beat'st thou now?
Happy billow, that didst ripple tenderly round Hero's foot,
When Leander, faint from swimming, by the stormy waves was rent,
Where flow'st thou now?
Cast into the song your gaze, for there a mighty grave-yard lies,
'Neath whose surface all the bodies of the gods by man are pent,
There weeps he now!
"Music in the Soul" (1886).
STAIRS
Some on the way to palaces are laid,
With statues and with tapestry adorned,
Of marble with a grey-hued balustrade.
The second in the burgher's dwelling end,
Only of sandstone—unadorned are they,
And turning, by a modest path ascend.
