  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's Heroic Epistle, XV. 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 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? 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 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 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 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 store Rich gifts and many, yet with all the pain Of hopeless longing made thy spirit sore, E'en thou didst yearn, and couldest not attain. 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 dear To mortal hearts, but that which naught destroys, The sacred image of thy falling tear. 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. |
|
