Have lived so far from Earth, they scarce would know
The odour of my incense, nor how white
My piteous altars stand; for as the Moon
Smiles sadly disempassioned over men
And their tumultuous cities crowned with song,
Where live by night so many heavy hearts,
So smile the gods on my pale-lipped despairs.
On to the end these feet must walk alone,—
Alone, once more, and unillumined, fare;
For I am far from home to die, and far
From any voice to comfort me beyond
The cypress twilight and the hemlock gloom!
Not evermore, O blue Ionian Sea,
And vine-clad valleys, shall these eyes behold
My Lesbos, still my first and last of loves!
But take me, mother Ocean, while I feel
Burn thro’ my blood this magic ecstasy!
Take me, O take me in your cooling arms,
And let the ablution of soft waters lave
Old sorrows from these eyes, and wash the pain
From this poor heart, that sinned, but suffered more!
to the edge of the cliff, and leaps into the sea beneath her.)
43
