I asked for something greater than I found, And every time that love has made me weep, I have rejoiced that love could be so strong; For I have stood apart and watched my soul Caught in the gust of pa.s.sion, as a bird With baffled wings against the dusty whirlwind Struggles and frees itself to find the sky.

It is not for a single G.o.d I go; I have grown weary of the winds of heaven.

I will not be a reed to hold the sound Of whatsoever breath the G.o.ds may blow, Turning my torment into music for them.

They gave me life; the gift was bountiful, I lived with the swift singing strength of fire, Seeking for beauty as a flame for fuel-- Beauty in all things and in every hour.

The G.o.ds have given life--I gave them song; The debt is paid and now I turn to go.

The breath of dawn blows the stars out like lamps, There is a rim of silver on the sea, As one grown tired who hopes to sleep, I go.

II

Oh Litis, little slave, why will you sleep?

These long Egyptian noons bend down your head Bowed like the yarrow with a yellow bee.

There, lift your eyes no man has ever kindled, Dark eyes that wait like f.a.ggots for the fire.

See how the temple's solid square of shade Points north to Lesbos, and the splendid sea That you have never seen, oh evening-eyed.

Yet have you never wondered what the Nile Is seeking always, restless and wild with spring And no less in the winter, seeking still?

How shall I tell you? Can you think of fields Greater than G.o.ds could till, more blue than night Sown over with the stars; and delicate With filmy nets of foam that come and go?

It is more cruel and more compa.s.sionate Than harried earth. It takes with unconcern And quick forgetting, rapture of the rain And agony of thunder, the moon's white Soft-garmented virginity, and then The insatiable ardor of the sun.

And me it took. But there is one more strong, Love, that came laughing from the elder seas, The Cyprian, the mother of the world; She gave me love who only asked for death-- I who had seen much sorrow in men's eyes And in my own too sorrowful a fire.

I was a sister of the stars, and yet Shaken with pain; sister of birds and yet The wings that bore my soul were very tired.

I watched the careless spring too many times Light her green torches in a hungry wind; Too many times I watched them flare, and then Fall to forsaken embers in the autumn.

And I was sick of all things--even song.

In the dull autumn dawn I turned to death, Buried my living body in the sea, The strong cold sea that takes and does not give-- But there is one more strong, the Cyprian.

Litis, to wake from sleep and find your eyes Met in their first fresh upward gaze by love, Filled with love's happy shame from other eyes, Dazzled with tenderness and drowned in light As tho' you looked unthinking at the sun, Oh Litis, that is joy! But if you came Not from the sunny shallow pool of sleep, But from the sea of death, the strangling sea Of night and nothingness, and waked to find Love looking down upon you, glad and still, Strange and yet known forever, that is peace.

So did he lean above me. Not a word He spoke; I only heard the morning sea Singing against his happy ship, the keen And straining joy of wind-awakened sails And songs of mariners, and in myself The precious pain of arms that held me fast.

They warmed the cold sea out of all my blood; I slept, feeling his eyes above my sleep.

There on the ship with wines and olives laden, Led by the stars to far invisible ports, Egypt and islands of the inner seas, Love came to me, and Cercolas was love.

III ¹ ¹ From " Helen of Troy and Other Poems."

The twilight's inner flame grows blue and deep, And in my Lesbos, over leagues of sea, The temples glimmer moon-wise in the trees.

Twilight has veiled the little flower-face Here on my heart, but still the night is kind And leaves her warm sweet weight against my breast.

Am I that Sappho who would run at dusk Along the surges creeping up the sh.o.r.e When tides came in to ease the hungry beach, And running, running till the night was black, Would fall forespent upon the chilly sand And quiver with the winds from off the sea?

Ah quietly the shingle waits the tides Whose waves are stinging kisses, but to me Love brought no peace, nor darkness any rest.

I crept and touched the foam with fevered hands And cried to Love, from whom the sea is sweet, From whom the sea is bitterer than death.

Ah, Aphrodite, if I sing no more To thee, G.o.d's daughter, powerful as G.o.d, It is that thou hast made my life too sweet To hold the added sweetness of a song.

There is a quiet at the heart of love, And I have pierced the pain and come to peace I hold my peace, my Cleïs, on my heart; And softer than a little wild bird's wing Are kisses that she pours upon my mouth.

Ah never any more when spring like fire Will flicker in the newly opened leaves, Shall I steal forth to seek for solitude Beyond the lure of light Alcaeus' lyre, Beyond the sob that stilled Erinna's voice.

Ah, never with a throat that aches with song, Beneath the white uncaring sky of spring, Shall I go forth to hide awhile from Love The quiver and the crying of my heart.

Still I remember how I strove to flee The love-note of the birds, and bowed my head To hurry faster, but upon the ground I saw two wingèd shadows side by side, And all the world's spring pa.s.sion stifled me.

Ah, Love there is no fleeing from thy might, No lonely place where thou hast never trod, No desert thou hast left uncarpeted With flowers that spring beneath thy perfect feet.

In many guises didst thou come to me; I saw thee by the maidens while they danced, Phaon allured me with a look of thine, In Anactoria I knew thy grace, I looked at Cercolas and saw thine eyes; But never wholly, soul and body mine, Didst thou bid any love me as I loved.

Now have I found the peace that fled from me; Close, close against my heart I hold my world.

Ah, Love that made my life a Iyric cry, Ah, Love that tuned my lips to Iyres of thine, I taught the world thy music, now alone I sing for one who falls asleep to hear.