The blank circumference of my pale loss. My very heart has grown a timid mouse, Swings on the flat sand with a hollow clang; Ulysses, come! Ere traitors leave the mark Of spread wine-dripping fingers on the smooth And decent shoulders that now stoop for thee. I am not young nor happy as of old, When, awed by thy male strength, my face grew dark At thy grave footfall, with a serious joy. Much hope has dwelt within my heart so long Its settled habit seems despair; but O! Let amiable ocean smile around, Green-sparkling on thy dripping homeward oars, And thou come stately to mine arms, my soul Such loveliness and joy in that first flash With doubtful recognition,--that the kiss And much I fear that when we meet thy face And then, with thy grave pride, subdue itself But thou, thou too, art old, dear lord—thy hair May fight your noble battles o'er again, Return, return, Ulysses, ere I die! Upon this desolate, desolate strand I wait, An alabaster woman, whose fix'd eyes Stare seaward, whether it be storm or calm. ever, evermore, as in a dream, I see thee gazing hither from thy ship In sunset regions where the still seas rot, And stretching out great arms whose shadows fall Gigantic on the glassy purple sea; And ever, evermore, you come to me, And evermore your coming far away And evermore you come not,—and I age. XI. SAPPHO: ON THE LEUCADIAN ROCK. 1. O SWEET, Sweet, sweet! While the Moon, with her dove's eyes fair, And her beautiful yellow-hair, And the green Snake coil'd around her silvery feet, Walk'd dumbly up above in the jewell'd air Waving her luminous wings, To sit upon this crag above the sea Clasp'd close, so close, to thee, Pale with much yearning, while the murmurings Of the great waters seem'd to waft to me The name of Phaon, To whisper Phaon, Phaon, Phaon, Phaon, Phaon, with deep intoning, Hushfully, hushfully moaning! O bliss, bliss, bliss! 2. Though the Moon look'd pale in the sky, To cling to thy burning lips with kiss on kiss, Faintly watching the butterfly stars swim by In the track of that queenly Moon; And in a dream, clasp'd close, so close, to thee, A portion of the faint monotonous tune That whisper'd Phaon, Phaon, Phaon, Phaon, Phaon, Phaon, Phaon, while Dian darkening Stoop'd hushfully, hushfully, harkening! O pain, pain, pain! 3. While the Moon, in a sky as clear |