AN AUGUST NIGHT
Hot with the ardour of the sun,Whose burning lips had slain the noon,The golden pallor of the moonWas but an added fire, o'ercomeWith memories she swooned away,While I, grown weary with the daySought on my balcony to findSome solace for my groping mind,But lo! the awful night was fraughtWith anguish, from the noontide caught;The dark was breathless, and the skiesFilled with a thousand prying eyesBut scoffed to see my soul's despair,And flung me back my tortured prayer.
Hot with the ardour of the sun,Whose burning lips had slain the noon,The golden pallor of the moonWas but an added fire, o'ercomeWith memories she swooned away,While I, grown weary with the daySought on my balcony to findSome solace for my groping mind,But lo! the awful night was fraughtWith anguish, from the noontide caught;The dark was breathless, and the skiesFilled with a thousand prying eyesBut scoffed to see my soul's despair,And flung me back my tortured prayer.
Hot with the ardour of the sun,Whose burning lips had slain the noon,The golden pallor of the moonWas but an added fire, o'ercomeWith memories she swooned away,While I, grown weary with the daySought on my balcony to findSome solace for my groping mind,But lo! the awful night was fraughtWith anguish, from the noontide caught;The dark was breathless, and the skiesFilled with a thousand prying eyesBut scoffed to see my soul's despair,And flung me back my tortured prayer.
Hot with the ardour of the sun,
Whose burning lips had slain the noon,
The golden pallor of the moon
Was but an added fire, o'ercome
With memories she swooned away,
While I, grown weary with the day
Sought on my balcony to find
Some solace for my groping mind,
But lo! the awful night was fraught
With anguish, from the noontide caught;
The dark was breathless, and the skies
Filled with a thousand prying eyes
But scoffed to see my soul's despair,
And flung me back my tortured prayer.
Dear, perchance 'neath the frost and snowOne little golden flower is sleeping,You shall find it, for you will knowWhither at dawn the sun goes peeping.Come then sweetheart, we two will goHand in hand, and a truce to weeping,If, in spite of the winter's woe,Safe in Nature's maternal keepingUnder the frost rime and under the snow,One little primrose is daintily sleeping.
Dear, perchance 'neath the frost and snowOne little golden flower is sleeping,You shall find it, for you will knowWhither at dawn the sun goes peeping.Come then sweetheart, we two will goHand in hand, and a truce to weeping,If, in spite of the winter's woe,Safe in Nature's maternal keepingUnder the frost rime and under the snow,One little primrose is daintily sleeping.
Dear, perchance 'neath the frost and snowOne little golden flower is sleeping,You shall find it, for you will knowWhither at dawn the sun goes peeping.
Dear, perchance 'neath the frost and snow
One little golden flower is sleeping,
You shall find it, for you will know
Whither at dawn the sun goes peeping.
Come then sweetheart, we two will goHand in hand, and a truce to weeping,If, in spite of the winter's woe,Safe in Nature's maternal keepingUnder the frost rime and under the snow,One little primrose is daintily sleeping.
Come then sweetheart, we two will go
Hand in hand, and a truce to weeping,
If, in spite of the winter's woe,
Safe in Nature's maternal keeping
Under the frost rime and under the snow,
One little primrose is daintily sleeping.
I have chosen a hill very solemn and tall,To shelter me.I have chosen a home very humble and small,Where I would be.I have chosen a wind very fragrant and gay,To kiss my mouth.I have chosen a view, stretching ever away,When I look south.I have chosen a glow that the sunlight shall bringWhen morning calls.I have chosen a choir of the thrushes to singWhen twilight falls.I have chosen a shrine where my spirit may pray,Blessing its birth.I have chosen a breast where my head I can lay,Sweet Mother Earth!
I have chosen a hill very solemn and tall,To shelter me.I have chosen a home very humble and small,Where I would be.I have chosen a wind very fragrant and gay,To kiss my mouth.I have chosen a view, stretching ever away,When I look south.I have chosen a glow that the sunlight shall bringWhen morning calls.I have chosen a choir of the thrushes to singWhen twilight falls.I have chosen a shrine where my spirit may pray,Blessing its birth.I have chosen a breast where my head I can lay,Sweet Mother Earth!
I have chosen a hill very solemn and tall,To shelter me.I have chosen a home very humble and small,Where I would be.
I have chosen a hill very solemn and tall,
To shelter me.
I have chosen a home very humble and small,
Where I would be.
I have chosen a wind very fragrant and gay,To kiss my mouth.I have chosen a view, stretching ever away,When I look south.
I have chosen a wind very fragrant and gay,
To kiss my mouth.
I have chosen a view, stretching ever away,
When I look south.
I have chosen a glow that the sunlight shall bringWhen morning calls.I have chosen a choir of the thrushes to singWhen twilight falls.
I have chosen a glow that the sunlight shall bring
When morning calls.
I have chosen a choir of the thrushes to sing
When twilight falls.
I have chosen a shrine where my spirit may pray,Blessing its birth.I have chosen a breast where my head I can lay,Sweet Mother Earth!
I have chosen a shrine where my spirit may pray,
Blessing its birth.
I have chosen a breast where my head I can lay,
Sweet Mother Earth!
There are two happy birds in the tree,There are two happy stars in the sky,There are two happy waves in the sea,There are two happy clouds drifting by,There are two happy mortals, since weAre together, just you dear, and I.
There are two happy birds in the tree,There are two happy stars in the sky,There are two happy waves in the sea,There are two happy clouds drifting by,There are two happy mortals, since weAre together, just you dear, and I.
There are two happy birds in the tree,There are two happy stars in the sky,There are two happy waves in the sea,There are two happy clouds drifting by,There are two happy mortals, since weAre together, just you dear, and I.
There are two happy birds in the tree,
There are two happy stars in the sky,
There are two happy waves in the sea,
There are two happy clouds drifting by,
There are two happy mortals, since we
Are together, just you dear, and I.
Where shall we make us a cosy home,Up in a high pine tree?Suppose the squirrel deserts his nest,And we could only grow small and restUnder the twigs, laid so daintily,Up in the high pine tree!Where shall we build us a lovely house,Under the Ocean deep?Suppose the fishes would swim away,And leave a palace of coral gay,With seaweed gardens where moonbeams sleep,Under the Ocean deep!Where shall we find an enchanted spot,Up in the fields of sky?Suppose the rainbow bends slowly down,And we walk over to Cloudy Town,Golden with beams from the morning's eye,Up in the fields of sky!How shall we live out our days, we two,Safely where no harm parts?Suppose we fetter our lives with love,More fair than ocean, or skies above,And learn to dwell in each other's hearts,Safely where no harm parts.
Where shall we make us a cosy home,Up in a high pine tree?Suppose the squirrel deserts his nest,And we could only grow small and restUnder the twigs, laid so daintily,Up in the high pine tree!Where shall we build us a lovely house,Under the Ocean deep?Suppose the fishes would swim away,And leave a palace of coral gay,With seaweed gardens where moonbeams sleep,Under the Ocean deep!Where shall we find an enchanted spot,Up in the fields of sky?Suppose the rainbow bends slowly down,And we walk over to Cloudy Town,Golden with beams from the morning's eye,Up in the fields of sky!How shall we live out our days, we two,Safely where no harm parts?Suppose we fetter our lives with love,More fair than ocean, or skies above,And learn to dwell in each other's hearts,Safely where no harm parts.
Where shall we make us a cosy home,Up in a high pine tree?Suppose the squirrel deserts his nest,And we could only grow small and restUnder the twigs, laid so daintily,Up in the high pine tree!
Where shall we make us a cosy home,
Up in a high pine tree?
Suppose the squirrel deserts his nest,
And we could only grow small and rest
Under the twigs, laid so daintily,
Up in the high pine tree!
Where shall we build us a lovely house,Under the Ocean deep?Suppose the fishes would swim away,And leave a palace of coral gay,With seaweed gardens where moonbeams sleep,Under the Ocean deep!
Where shall we build us a lovely house,
Under the Ocean deep?
Suppose the fishes would swim away,
And leave a palace of coral gay,
With seaweed gardens where moonbeams sleep,
Under the Ocean deep!
Where shall we find an enchanted spot,Up in the fields of sky?Suppose the rainbow bends slowly down,And we walk over to Cloudy Town,Golden with beams from the morning's eye,Up in the fields of sky!
Where shall we find an enchanted spot,
Up in the fields of sky?
Suppose the rainbow bends slowly down,
And we walk over to Cloudy Town,
Golden with beams from the morning's eye,
Up in the fields of sky!
How shall we live out our days, we two,Safely where no harm parts?Suppose we fetter our lives with love,More fair than ocean, or skies above,And learn to dwell in each other's hearts,Safely where no harm parts.
How shall we live out our days, we two,
Safely where no harm parts?
Suppose we fetter our lives with love,
More fair than ocean, or skies above,
And learn to dwell in each other's hearts,
Safely where no harm parts.
Meeting you I felt a thrill,Strangely sad, and strangely sweet!Some compelling force of will,Sprung from sympathies complete,Sympathies, that rose againAfter death's ennobling pain.
Meeting you I felt a thrill,Strangely sad, and strangely sweet!Some compelling force of will,Sprung from sympathies complete,Sympathies, that rose againAfter death's ennobling pain.
Meeting you I felt a thrill,Strangely sad, and strangely sweet!Some compelling force of will,Sprung from sympathies complete,Sympathies, that rose againAfter death's ennobling pain.
Meeting you I felt a thrill,
Strangely sad, and strangely sweet!
Some compelling force of will,
Sprung from sympathies complete,
Sympathies, that rose again
After death's ennobling pain.
If not from Phaon I must hope for ease,Ah! let me seek it from the raging seas:To raging seas unpitied I'll remove;And either cease to live or cease to love.Ovid'sHeroic Epistle, XV.
If not from Phaon I must hope for ease,Ah! let me seek it from the raging seas:To raging seas unpitied I'll remove;And either cease to live or cease to love.Ovid'sHeroic Epistle, XV.
If not from Phaon I must hope for ease,Ah! let me seek it from the raging seas:To raging seas unpitied I'll remove;And either cease to live or cease to love.
If not from Phaon I must hope for ease,
Ah! let me seek it from the raging seas:
To raging seas unpitied I'll remove;
And either cease to live or cease to love.
Ovid'sHeroic Epistle, XV.
Ovid'sHeroic Epistle, XV.
Immortal Lesbian! canst thou still beholdFrom some far sphere wherein thy soul doth singThis earth, that once was thine, while glimmered goldThe joyous beams of youth's forgotten spring?Can thine unfathomed eyes embrace this sea,Whose ebb and flow once echoed in thy brain?Whose tides bear record of thine ecstasyAnd thy despair, that in its arms hath lain?Those love-burnt lips! Can death have quenched their fire?Whose words oft stir our senses to unrest?Whose eager ardour caught and held desire,A searing flame against thy living breast?Passion-wan Lesbian, in that awful placeWhere spirits wander lost without a nameThou still art Sappho, and thine ardent faceLights up the gloom with love's enduring flame.Oh! Goddess, woman, lover, all divineAnd yet divinely mortal, where thou artComes not as cadence from some song of thineEach throbbing beat that stirs the human heart?Canst thou forget us who are still thy friends,Thy lovers, o'er the cloudy gulf of years?Who live, and love, and dying make amendsFor life's short pleasures thro' death's endless fears?Once thou didst seek the solace of thy kind,The madness of a kiss was more to theeThan Heaven or Hell, the greatness of thy mindCould not conceive more potent ecstasy!Life was thy slave, and gave thee of her storeRich gifts and many, yet with all the painOf hopeless longing made thy spirit sore,E'enthoudidst yearn, and couldest not attain.Oh! Sappho, sister, by that agonyOf soul and body hast thou gained a placeWithin each age that shines majestic'lyAcross the world from out the dusk of space.Not thy deep pleasures, nor thy swiftest joys,Have made thee thus, immortal and yet dearTo mortal hearts, but that which naught destroys,The sacred image of thy falling tear.Beloved Lesbian! we would dare to claimBy that same tear fond union with thy lot;Yet 'tis enough, if when we breathe thy nameThy soul but listens, and forgets us not.
Immortal Lesbian! canst thou still beholdFrom some far sphere wherein thy soul doth singThis earth, that once was thine, while glimmered goldThe joyous beams of youth's forgotten spring?Can thine unfathomed eyes embrace this sea,Whose ebb and flow once echoed in thy brain?Whose tides bear record of thine ecstasyAnd thy despair, that in its arms hath lain?Those love-burnt lips! Can death have quenched their fire?Whose words oft stir our senses to unrest?Whose eager ardour caught and held desire,A searing flame against thy living breast?Passion-wan Lesbian, in that awful placeWhere spirits wander lost without a nameThou still art Sappho, and thine ardent faceLights up the gloom with love's enduring flame.Oh! Goddess, woman, lover, all divineAnd yet divinely mortal, where thou artComes not as cadence from some song of thineEach throbbing beat that stirs the human heart?Canst thou forget us who are still thy friends,Thy lovers, o'er the cloudy gulf of years?Who live, and love, and dying make amendsFor life's short pleasures thro' death's endless fears?Once thou didst seek the solace of thy kind,The madness of a kiss was more to theeThan Heaven or Hell, the greatness of thy mindCould not conceive more potent ecstasy!Life was thy slave, and gave thee of her storeRich gifts and many, yet with all the painOf hopeless longing made thy spirit sore,E'enthoudidst yearn, and couldest not attain.Oh! Sappho, sister, by that agonyOf soul and body hast thou gained a placeWithin each age that shines majestic'lyAcross the world from out the dusk of space.Not thy deep pleasures, nor thy swiftest joys,Have made thee thus, immortal and yet dearTo mortal hearts, but that which naught destroys,The sacred image of thy falling tear.Beloved Lesbian! we would dare to claimBy that same tear fond union with thy lot;Yet 'tis enough, if when we breathe thy nameThy soul but listens, and forgets us not.
Immortal Lesbian! canst thou still beholdFrom some far sphere wherein thy soul doth singThis earth, that once was thine, while glimmered goldThe joyous beams of youth's forgotten spring?
Immortal Lesbian! canst thou still behold
From some far sphere wherein thy soul doth sing
This earth, that once was thine, while glimmered gold
The joyous beams of youth's forgotten spring?
Can thine unfathomed eyes embrace this sea,Whose ebb and flow once echoed in thy brain?Whose tides bear record of thine ecstasyAnd thy despair, that in its arms hath lain?
Can thine unfathomed eyes embrace this sea,
Whose ebb and flow once echoed in thy brain?
Whose tides bear record of thine ecstasy
And thy despair, that in its arms hath lain?
Those love-burnt lips! Can death have quenched their fire?Whose words oft stir our senses to unrest?Whose eager ardour caught and held desire,A searing flame against thy living breast?
Those love-burnt lips! Can death have quenched their fire?
Whose words oft stir our senses to unrest?
Whose eager ardour caught and held desire,
A searing flame against thy living breast?
Passion-wan Lesbian, in that awful placeWhere spirits wander lost without a nameThou still art Sappho, and thine ardent faceLights up the gloom with love's enduring flame.
Passion-wan Lesbian, in that awful place
Where spirits wander lost without a name
Thou still art Sappho, and thine ardent face
Lights up the gloom with love's enduring flame.
Oh! Goddess, woman, lover, all divineAnd yet divinely mortal, where thou artComes not as cadence from some song of thineEach throbbing beat that stirs the human heart?
Oh! Goddess, woman, lover, all divine
And yet divinely mortal, where thou art
Comes not as cadence from some song of thine
Each throbbing beat that stirs the human heart?
Canst thou forget us who are still thy friends,Thy lovers, o'er the cloudy gulf of years?Who live, and love, and dying make amendsFor life's short pleasures thro' death's endless fears?
Canst thou forget us who are still thy friends,
Thy lovers, o'er the cloudy gulf of years?
Who live, and love, and dying make amends
For life's short pleasures thro' death's endless fears?
Once thou didst seek the solace of thy kind,The madness of a kiss was more to theeThan Heaven or Hell, the greatness of thy mindCould not conceive more potent ecstasy!
Once thou didst seek the solace of thy kind,
The madness of a kiss was more to thee
Than Heaven or Hell, the greatness of thy mind
Could not conceive more potent ecstasy!
Life was thy slave, and gave thee of her storeRich gifts and many, yet with all the painOf hopeless longing made thy spirit sore,E'enthoudidst yearn, and couldest not attain.
Life was thy slave, and gave thee of her store
Rich gifts and many, yet with all the pain
Of hopeless longing made thy spirit sore,
E'enthoudidst yearn, and couldest not attain.
Oh! Sappho, sister, by that agonyOf soul and body hast thou gained a placeWithin each age that shines majestic'lyAcross the world from out the dusk of space.
Oh! Sappho, sister, by that agony
Of soul and body hast thou gained a place
Within each age that shines majestic'ly
Across the world from out the dusk of space.
Not thy deep pleasures, nor thy swiftest joys,Have made thee thus, immortal and yet dearTo mortal hearts, but that which naught destroys,The sacred image of thy falling tear.
Not thy deep pleasures, nor thy swiftest joys,
Have made thee thus, immortal and yet dear
To mortal hearts, but that which naught destroys,
The sacred image of thy falling tear.
Beloved Lesbian! we would dare to claimBy that same tear fond union with thy lot;Yet 'tis enough, if when we breathe thy nameThy soul but listens, and forgets us not.
Beloved Lesbian! we would dare to claim
By that same tear fond union with thy lot;
Yet 'tis enough, if when we breathe thy name
Thy soul but listens, and forgets us not.
To-day I hate that bitter creed,Whereby the groaning soul is taughtThat God Almighty finds the needOf pain, ere true salvation's wrought!Dear God, who did create the trees,The scented flowers, the misty view,The uplands' breezy ecstasies,The Ocean's iridescent blue,The arches of the endless sky,The magic of a day in Spring,The down upon a butterfly,The anthem that the skylarks sing.All perfect growing harmonies,Each tuneful sound and beauteous sight,That lifts us from our miseriesTo raptures of supreme delight,Can I believe that Thou hast willedEach bitter moment I have spent?Whereby in anguish were fulfilledThy hard decrees of punishment?To-day is June! Since early dawnMy heart has felt the sun's caress,I bless the hour that I was bornTo witness so much loveliness.And I would have aGodof love,A tender God, who looks and smilesFrom some not distant throne aboveUpon His fair created miles.I know not who has placed the thornsThat pierce, on our human brow,But I would pray on these sweet morns.Dear God, Oh! Let it not be Thou.
To-day I hate that bitter creed,Whereby the groaning soul is taughtThat God Almighty finds the needOf pain, ere true salvation's wrought!Dear God, who did create the trees,The scented flowers, the misty view,The uplands' breezy ecstasies,The Ocean's iridescent blue,The arches of the endless sky,The magic of a day in Spring,The down upon a butterfly,The anthem that the skylarks sing.All perfect growing harmonies,Each tuneful sound and beauteous sight,That lifts us from our miseriesTo raptures of supreme delight,Can I believe that Thou hast willedEach bitter moment I have spent?Whereby in anguish were fulfilledThy hard decrees of punishment?To-day is June! Since early dawnMy heart has felt the sun's caress,I bless the hour that I was bornTo witness so much loveliness.And I would have aGodof love,A tender God, who looks and smilesFrom some not distant throne aboveUpon His fair created miles.I know not who has placed the thornsThat pierce, on our human brow,But I would pray on these sweet morns.Dear God, Oh! Let it not be Thou.
To-day I hate that bitter creed,Whereby the groaning soul is taughtThat God Almighty finds the needOf pain, ere true salvation's wrought!
To-day I hate that bitter creed,
Whereby the groaning soul is taught
That God Almighty finds the need
Of pain, ere true salvation's wrought!
Dear God, who did create the trees,The scented flowers, the misty view,The uplands' breezy ecstasies,The Ocean's iridescent blue,
Dear God, who did create the trees,
The scented flowers, the misty view,
The uplands' breezy ecstasies,
The Ocean's iridescent blue,
The arches of the endless sky,The magic of a day in Spring,The down upon a butterfly,The anthem that the skylarks sing.
The arches of the endless sky,
The magic of a day in Spring,
The down upon a butterfly,
The anthem that the skylarks sing.
All perfect growing harmonies,Each tuneful sound and beauteous sight,That lifts us from our miseriesTo raptures of supreme delight,
All perfect growing harmonies,
Each tuneful sound and beauteous sight,
That lifts us from our miseries
To raptures of supreme delight,
Can I believe that Thou hast willedEach bitter moment I have spent?Whereby in anguish were fulfilledThy hard decrees of punishment?
Can I believe that Thou hast willed
Each bitter moment I have spent?
Whereby in anguish were fulfilled
Thy hard decrees of punishment?
To-day is June! Since early dawnMy heart has felt the sun's caress,I bless the hour that I was bornTo witness so much loveliness.
To-day is June! Since early dawn
My heart has felt the sun's caress,
I bless the hour that I was born
To witness so much loveliness.
And I would have aGodof love,A tender God, who looks and smilesFrom some not distant throne aboveUpon His fair created miles.
And I would have aGodof love,
A tender God, who looks and smiles
From some not distant throne above
Upon His fair created miles.
I know not who has placed the thornsThat pierce, on our human brow,But I would pray on these sweet morns.Dear God, Oh! Let it not be Thou.
I know not who has placed the thorns
That pierce, on our human brow,
But I would pray on these sweet morns.
Dear God, Oh! Let it not be Thou.