The lamp has failed amid the glimmering dusk
Of midnight; and now even music sounds
Mournful as evening bells on seas unknown.
Phaon
O, Lesbos waits, and still you will not come—
Our home is calling, and you will not hear?
Sappho
Out of my time I am, and like a bird
On nor’land wings too early flown, I dream
Amid the wintry cold of all the world
Of dawns and summer rains I ne’er shall see! …
Lightly you loved me, Phaon, long ago,
And there were other arms unknown to me
That folded over you, though none more fond
Than mine that fell so wing-like round your head.
And there were other eyes that drooped as mine
Despairingly before your pleading mouth;
And many were the nights I wept, and learned
How sorrowful is all divided love,
Since one voice must be lost, and being lost,
Is then remembered most.
Phaon
Is then remembered most. But you alone
It was, pale-throated woman, that I loved:
Through outland countries have I seen your eyes,
And like a tender flow’r through perilous ways
Your face has gone before me, and your voice
Across dim meadows and mysterious seas
Has drawn me to you, calling from the dunes
24
