Part 5 (2/2)

Now my heart, paining my bosom, Pants with desire as a maenad Mad for the orgiac revel.

Now under my skin run subtle Arrows of flame, and my body Quivers with surge of emotion.

Now long importunate yearnings Vanquish with surfeit my reason; Fainting my senses forsake me.

APHRODITE'S PRAISE

O Sappho, why art thou ever Singing with praises the blessed Queen of the heaven?

Why does the heart in thy bosom Ever revert in its yearning Throb to the G.o.ddess?

Why are thy senses unsated Ever in quest of elusive Love that is deathless?

Ah, gracious Daughter of Cyprus, Never can I as a mortal Tire of thy service.

Thou art the breath of my body, The blood in my veins, and the glowing Pulse of my bosom.

Omnipotent, burning, resistless, Thou art the pa.s.sion that shaking Masters me ever.

Thou art the crisis of rapture Relaxing my limbs, and the melting Ebb of emotion;

Bringing the tears to my lashes, Sighs to my lips, in the swooning Excess of pa.s.sion.

O golden-crowned Aphrodite, Grant I shall ever be grateful, Sure of thy favor;

Worthy the lot of thy priestess, Supreme in the song that forever Rings with thy praises.

THE FIRST KISS

And down I set the cus.h.i.+on Upon the couch that she, Relaxed supine upon it, Might give her lips to me.

As some enamored priestess At Aphrodite's shrine, Entranced I bent above her With sense of the divine.

She had, by nature nubile, In years a child, no hint Of any secret knowledge Of pa.s.sion's least intent.

Her mouth for immolation Was ripe, and mine the art; And one long kiss of pa.s.sion Deflowered her virgin heart.

ODE TO ATTHIS

I loved you, Atthis, once, long years ago!

My blood was flame that thrilled to pa.s.sion's throe; Now long neglect has quenched the olden fire, And blight of drifting years effaced desire.

I loved you, Atthis--joy of long ago-- Love shook my soul as winds on forests blow; This lawless heart that dared exhaust delight, Unsated strove and maddened through the night.

I loved you, Atthis, once, long years ago!

With pain whose surge I felt to anguish grow; Suffered the storms that waste the heart and leave A desert sh.o.r.e where seas but break to grieve.

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