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diff --git a/12389-0.txt b/12389-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..218cac9 --- /dev/null +++ b/12389-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3341 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12389 *** + +SAPPHO +ONE HUNDRED LYRICS +BY +BLISS CARMAN + + +1907 + + + + +“SAPPHO WHO BROKE OFF A FRAGMENT OF HER SOUL +FOR US TO GUESS AT.” + +“SAPPHO, WITH THAT GLORIOLE +OF EBON HAIR ON CALMÈD BROWS— +O POET-WOMAN! NONE FORGOES +THE LEAP, ATTAINING THE REPOSE.” + + E.B. BROWNING. + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +THE POETRY OF SAPPHO.—If all the poets and all the lovers of poetry should +be asked to name the most precious of the priceless things which time has +wrung in tribute from the triumphs of human genius, the answer which would +rush to every tongue would be “The Lost Poems of Sappho.” These we know to +have been jewels of a radiance so imperishable that the broken gleams of +them still dazzle men’s eyes, whether shining from the two small brilliants +and the handful of star-dust which alone remain to us, or reflected merely +from the adoration of those poets of old time who were so fortunate as to +witness their full glory. + +For about two thousand five hundred years Sappho has held her place as not +only the supreme poet of her sex, but the chief lyrist of all lyrists. +Every one who reads acknowledges her fame, concedes her supremacy; but to +all except poets and Hellenists her name is a vague and uncomprehended +splendour, rising secure above a persistent mist of misconception. In spite +of all that is in these days being written about Sappho, it is perhaps not +out of place now to inquire, in a few words, into the substance of this +supremacy which towers so unassailably secure from what appear to be such +shadowy foundations. + +First, we have the witness of her contemporaries. Sappho was at the +height of her career about six centuries before Christ, at a period +when lyric poetry was peculiarly esteemed and cultivated at the centres +of Greek life. Among the _Molic_ peoples of the Isles, in particular, +it had been carried to a high pitch of perfection, and its forms +had become the subject of assiduous study. Its technique was exact, +complex, extremely elaborate, minutely regulated; yet the essential +fires of sincerity, spontaneity, imagination and passion were flaming +with undiminished heat behind the fixed forms and restricted measures. +The very metropolis of this lyric realm was Mitylene of Lesbos, where, +amid the myrtle groves and temples, the sunlit silver of the fountains, +the hyacinth gardens by a soft blue sea, Beauty and Love in their young +warmth could fuse the most rigid forms to fluency. Here Sappho was +the acknowledged queen of song—revered, studied, imitated, served, +adored by a little court of attendants and disciples, loved and hymned +by Alcæus, and acclaimed by her fellowcraftsmen throughout Greece as +the wonder of her age. That all the tributes of her contemporaries +show reverence not less for her personality than for her genius is +sufficient answer to the calumnies with which the ribald jesters of +that later period, the corrupt and shameless writers of Athenian +comedy, strove to defile her fame. It is sufficient, also, to warrant +our regarding the picturesque but scarcely dignified story of her vain +pursuit of Phaon and her frenzied leap from the Cliff of Leucas as +nothing more than a poetic myth, reminiscent, perhaps, of the myth of +Aphrodite and Adonis—who is, indeed, called Phaon in some versions. +The story is further discredited by the fact that we find no mention +of it in Greek literature—even among those Attic comedians who would +have clutched at it so eagerly and given it so gross a turn—till a +date more than two hundred years after Sappho’s death. It is a myth +which has begotten some exquisite literature, both in prose and verse, +from Ovid’s famous epistle to Addison’s gracious fantasy and some +impassioned and imperishable dithyrambs of Mr. Swinburne; but one need +not accept the story as a fact in order to appreciate the beauties +which flowered out from its coloured unreality. + +The applause of contemporaries, however, is not always justified by the +verdict of after-times, and does not always secure an immortality of +renown. The fame of Sappho has a more stable basis. Her work was in the +world’s possession for not far short of a thousand years—a thousand years +of changing tastes, searching criticism, and familiar use. It had to endure +the wear and tear of quotation, the commonizing touch of the school and the +market-place. And under this test its glory grew ever more and more +conspicuous. Through those thousand years poets and critics vied with one +another in proclaiming her verse the one unmatched exemplar of lyric art. +Such testimony, even though not a single fragment remained to us from which +to judge her poetry for ourselves, might well convince us that the +supremacy acknowledged by those who knew all the triumphs of the genius of +old Greece was beyond the assault of any modern rival. We might safely +accept the sustained judgment of a thousand years of Greece. + +Fortunately for us, however, two small but incomparable odes and a few +scintillating fragments have survived, quoted and handed down in the +eulogies of critics and expositors. In these the wisest minds, the greatest +poets, and the most inspired teachers of modern days have found +justification for the unanimous verdict of antiquity. The tributes of +Addison, Tennyson, and others, the throbbing paraphrases and ecstatic +interpretations of Swinburne, are too well known to call for special +comment in this brief note; but the concise summing up of her genius by Mr. +Watts-Dunton in his remarkable essay on poetry is so convincing and +illuminating that it seems to demand quotation here: “Never before these +songs were sung, and never since did the human soul, in the grip of a fiery +passion, utter a cry like hers; and, from the executive point of view, in +directness, in lucidity, in that high, imperious verbal economy which only +nature can teach the artist, she has no equal, and none worthy to take the +place of second.” + +The poems of Sappho so mysteriously lost to us seem to have consisted of at +least nine books of odes, together with _epithalamia_, epigrams, +elegies, and monodies. Of the several theories which have been advanced to +account for their disappearance, the most plausible seems to be that which +represents them as having been burned at Byzantium in the year 380 Anno +Domini, by command of Gregory Nazianzen, in order that his own poems might +be studied in their stead and the morals of the people thereby improved. Of +the efficacy of this act no means of judging has come down to us. + +In recent years there has arisen a great body of literature upon the +subject of Sappho, most of it the abstruse work of scholars writing for +scholars. But the gist of it all, together with the minutest surviving +fragment of her verse, has been made available to the general reader in +English by Mr. Henry T. Wharton, in whose altogether admirable little +volume we find all that is known and the most apposite of all that has been +said up to the present day about + + “Love’s priestess, mad with pain and joy of song, + Song’s priestess, mad with joy and pain of love.” + +Perhaps the most perilous and the most alluring venture in the whole field +of poetry is that which Mr. Carman has undertaken in attempting to give us +in English verse those lost poems of Sappho of which fragments have +survived. The task is obviously not one of translation or of paraphrasing, +but of imaginative and, at the same time, interpretive construction. It is +as if a sculptor of to-day were to set himself, with reverence, and trained +craftsmanship, and studious familiarity with the spirit, technique, and +atmosphere of his subject, to restore some statues of Polyclitus or +Praxiteles of which he had but a broken arm, a foot, a knee, a finger upon +which to build. Mr. Carman’s method, apparently, has been to imagine each +lost lyric as discovered, and then to translate it; for the indefinable +flavour of the translation is maintained throughout, though accompanied by +the fluidity and freedom of purely original work. + +C.G.D. ROBERTS. + + + + +Now to please my little friend +I must make these notes of spring, +With the soft south-west wind in them +And the marsh notes of the frogs. + +I must take a gold-bound pipe, +And outmatch the bubbling call +From the beechwoods in the sunlight, +From the meadows in the rain. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + Now to please my little friend + +I Cyprus, Paphos, or Panormus + +II What shall we do, Cytherea? + +III Power and beauty and knowledge + +IV O Pan of the evergreen forest + +V O Aphrodite + +VI Peer of the gods he seems + +VII The Cyprian came to thy cradle + +VIII Aphrodite of the foam + +IX Nay, but always and forever + +X Let there be garlands, Dica + +XI When the Cretan maidens + +XII In a dream I spoke with the Cyprus-born + +XIII Sleep thou in the bosom + +XIV Hesperus, bringing together + +XV In the grey olive-grove a small brown bird + +XVI In the apple boughs the coolness + +XVII Pale rose leaves have fallen + +XVIII The courtyard of her house is wide + +XIX There is a medlar-tree + +XX I behold Arcturus going westward + +XXI Softly the first step of twilight + +XXII Once you lay upon my bosom + +XXIII I loved thee, Atthis, in the long ago + +XXIV I shall be ever maiden + +XXV It was summer when I found you + +XXVI I recall thy white gown, cinctured + +XXVII Lover, art thou of a surety + +XXVIII With your head thrown backward + +XXIX Ah, what am I but a torrent + +XXX Love shakes my soul, like a mountain wind + +XXXI Love, let the wind cry + +XXXII Heart of mine, if all the altars + +XXXIII Never yet, love, in earth’s lifetime + +XXXIV “Who was Atthis?” men shall ask + +XXXV When the great pink mallow + +XXXVI When I pass thy door at night + +XXXVII Well I found you in the twilit garden + +XXXVIII Will not men remember us + +XXXIX I grow weary of the foreign cities + +XL Ah, what detains thee, Phaon + +XLI Phaon, O my lover + +XLII O heart of insatiable longing + +XLIII Surely somehow, in some measure + +XLIV O but my delicate lover + +XLV Softer than the hill-fog to the forest + +XLVI I seek and desire + +XLVII Like torn sea-kelp in the drift + +XLVIII Fine woven purple linen + +XLIX When I am home from travel + +L When I behold the pharos shine + +LI Is the day long + +LII Lo, on the distance a dark blue ravine + +LIII Art thou the top-most apple + +LIV How soon will all my lovely days be over + +LV Soul of sorrow, why this weeping? + +LVI It never can be mine + +LVII Others shall behold the sun + +LVIII Let thy strong spirit never fear + +LIX Will none say of Sappho + +LX When I have departed + +LXI There is no more to say, now thou art still + +LXII Play up, play up thy silver flute + +LXIII A beautiful child is mine + +LXIV Ah, but now henceforth + +LXV Softly the wind moves through the radiant morning + +LXVI What the west wind whispers + +LXVII Indoors the fire is kindled + +LXVIII You ask how love can keep the mortal soul + +LXIX Like a tall forest were their spears + +LXX My lover smiled, “O friend, ask not + +LXXI Ye who have the stable world + +LXXII I heard the gods reply + +LXXIII The sun on the tide, the peach on the bough + +LXXIV If death be good + +LXXV Tell me what this life means + +LXXVI Ye have heard how Marsyas + +LXXVII Hour by hour I sit + +LXXVIII Once in the shining street + +LXXIX How strange is love, O my lover + +LXXX How to say I love you + +LXXXI Hark, love, to the tambourines + +LXXXII Over the roofs the honey-coloured moon + +LXXXIII In the quiet garden world + +LXXXIV Soft was the wind in the beech-trees + +LXXXV Have ye heard the news of Sappho’s garden + +LXXXVI Love is so strong a thing + +LXXXVII Hadst thou with all thy loveliness been true + +LXXXVIII As on a morn a traveller might emerge + +LXXXIX Where shall I look for thee + +XC O sad, sad face and saddest eyes that ever + +XCI Why have the gods in derision + +XCII Like a red lily in the meadow grasses + +XCIII When in the spring the swallows all return + +XCIV Cold is the wind where Daphne sleeps + +XCV Hark, where Poseidon’s + +XCVI Hark, my lover, it is spring! + +XCVII When the early soft spring wind comes blowing + +XCVIII I am more tremulous than shaken reeds + +XCIX Over the wheat field + +C Once more the rain on the mountain + + Epilogue + + + + +SAPPHO + + + + +I + + +Cyprus, Paphos, or Panormus +May detain thee with their splendour +Of oblations on thine altars, +O imperial Aphrodite. + +Yet do thou regard, with pity 5 +For a nameless child of passion, +This small unfrequented valley +By the sea, O sea-born mother. + + + + +II + + +What shall we do, Cytherea? +Lovely Adonis is dying. + Ah, but we mourn him! + +Will he return when the Autumn +Purples the earth, and the sunlight 5 + Sleeps in the vineyard? + +Will he return when the Winter +Huddles the sheep, and Orion + Goes to his hunting? + +Ah, but thy beauty, Adonis, 10 +With the soft spring and the south wind, + Love and desire! + + + + +III + + +Power and beauty and knowledge,— +Pan, Aphrodite, or Hermes,— +Whom shall we life-loving mortals + Serve and be happy? + +Lo now, your garlanded altars, 5 +Are they not goodly with flowers? +Have ye not honour and pleasure + In lovely Lesbos? + +Will ye not, therefore, a little +Hearten, impel, and inspire 10 +One who adores, with a favour + Threefold in wonder? + + + + +IV + + +O Pan of the evergreen forest, +Protector of herds in the meadows, +Helper of men at their toiling,— +Tillage and harvest and herding,— +How many times to frail mortals 5 + Hast thou not hearkened! + +Now even I come before thee +With oil and honey and wheat-bread, +Praying for strength and fulfilment +Of human longing, with purpose 10 +Ever to keep thy great worship + Pure and undarkened. + + * * * * * + +O Hermes, master of knowledge, +Measure and number and rhythm, +Worker of wonders in metal, 15 +Moulder of malleable music, +So often the giver of secret + Learning to mortals! + +Now even I, a fond woman, +Frail and of small understanding, 20 +Yet with unslakable yearning +Greatly desiring wisdom, +Come to the threshold of reason + And the bright portals. + + * * * * * + +And thou, sea-born Aphrodite, 25 +In whose beneficent keeping +Earth, with her infinite beauty, +Colour and fashion and fragrance, +Glows like a flower with fervour + Where woods are vernal! 30 + +Touch with thy lips and enkindle +This moon-white delicate body, +Drench with the dew of enchantment +This mortal one, that I also +Grow to the measure of beauty 35 + Fleet yet eternal. + + + + +V + + +O Aphrodite, +God-born and deathless, +Break not my spirit +With bitter anguish: +Thou wilful empress, 5 +I pray thee, hither! + +As once aforetime +Well thou didst hearken +To my voice far off,— +Listen, and leaving 10 +Thy father’s golden +House in yoked chariot, + +Come, thy fleet sparrows +Beating the mid-air +Over the dark earth. 15 +Suddenly near me, +Smiling, immortal, +Thy bright regard asked + +What had befallen,— +Why I had called thee,— 20 +What my mad heart then +Most was desiring. +“What fair thing wouldst thou +Lure now to love thee? + +“Who wrongs thee, Sappho? 25 +If now she flies thee, +Soon shall she follow;— +Scorning thy gifts now, +Soon be the giver;— +And a loth loved one 30 + +“Soon be the lover.” +So even now, too, +Come and release me +From mordant love pain, +And all my heart’s will 35 +Help me accomplish! + + + + +VI + + +Peer of the gods he seems, +Who in thy presence +Sits and hears close to him +Thy silver speech-tones +And lovely laughter. 5 + +Ah, but the heart flutters +Under my bosom, +When I behold thee +Even a moment; +Utterance leaves me; 10 + +My tongue is useless; +A subtle fire +Runs through my body; +My eyes are sightless, +And my ears ringing; 15 + +I flush with fever, +And a strong trembling +Lays hold upon me; +Paler than grass am I, +Half dead for madness. 20 + +Yet must I, greatly +Daring, adore thee, +As the adventurous +Sailor makes seaward +For the lost sky-line 25 + +And undiscovered +Fabulous islands, +Drawn by the lure of +Beauty and summer +And the sea’s secret. 30 + + + + +VII + + +The Cyprian came to thy cradle, +When thou wast little and small, +And said to the nurse who rocked thee +“Fear not thou for the child: + +“She shall be kindly favoured, 5 +And fair and fashioned well, +As befits the Lesbian maidens +And those who are fated to love.” + +Hermes came to thy cradle, +Resourceful, sagacious, serene, 10 +And said, “The girl must have knowledge, +To lend her freedom and poise. + +Naught will avail her beauty, +If she have not wit beside. +She shall be Hermes’ daughter, 15 +Passing wise in her day.” + +Great Pan came to thy cradle, +With calm of the deepest hills, +And smiled, “They have forgotten +The veriest power of life. 20 + +“To kindle her shapely beauty, +And illumine her mind withal, +I give to the little person +The glowing and craving soul.” + + + + +VIII + + +Aphrodite of the foam, +Who hast given all good gifts, +And made Sappho at thy will +Love so greatly and so much, + +Ah, how comes it my frail heart 5 +Is so fond of all things fair, +I can never choose between +Gorgo and Andromeda? + + + + +IX + + +Nay, but always and forever +Like the bending yellow grain, +Or quick water in a channel, +Is the heart of man. + +Comes the unseen breath in power 5 +Like a great wind from the sea, +And we bow before his coming, +Though we know not why. + + + + +X + + +Let there be garlands, Dica, +Around thy lovely hair. +And supple sprays of blossom +Twined by thy soft hands. + +Whoso is crowned with flowers 5 +Has favour with the gods, +Who have no kindly eyes +For the ungarlanded. + + + + +XI + + +When the Cretan maidens +Dancing up the full moon +Round some fair new altar, +Trample the soft blossoms of fine grass, + +There is mirth among them. 5 +Aphrodite’s children +Ask her benediction +On their bridals in the summer night. + + + + +XII + + +In a dream I spoke with the Cyprus-born, + And said to her, +“Mother of beauty, mother of joy, +Why hast thou given to men + +“This thing called love, like the ache of a wound 5 + In beauty’s side, +To burn and throb and be quelled for an hour +And never wholly depart?” + +And the daughter of Cyprus said to me, + “Child of the earth, 10 +Behold, all things are born and attain, +But only as they desire,— + +“The sun that is strong, the gods that are wise, + The loving heart, +Deeds and knowledge and beauty and joy,— 15 +But before all else was desire.” + + + + +XIII + + +Sleep thou in the bosom +Of the tender comrade, +While the living water +Whispers in the well-run, +And the oleanders 5 +Glimmer in the moonlight. + +Soon, ah, soon the shy birds +Will be at their fluting, +And the morning planet +Rise above the garden; 10 +For there is a measure +Set to all things mortal. + + + + +XIV + + +Hesperus, bringing together +All that the morning star scattered,— + +Sheep to be folded in twilight, +Children for mothers to fondle,— + +Me too will bring to the dearest, 5 +Tenderest breast in all Lesbos. + + + + +XV + + +In the grey olive-grove a small brown bird +Had built her nest and waited for the spring. +But who could tell the happy thought that came +To lodge beneath my scarlet tunic’s fold? + +All day long now is the green earth renewed 5 +With the bright sea-wind and the yellow blossoms. +From the cool shade I hear the silver plash +Of the blown fountain at the garden’s end. + + + + +XVI + + +In the apple boughs the coolness +Murmurs, and the grey leaves flicker +Where sleep wanders. + +In this garden all the hot noon +I await thy fluttering footfall 5 +Through the twilight. + + + + +XVII + + +Pale rose leaves have fallen +In the fountain water; +And soft reedy flute-notes +Pierce the sultry quiet. + +But I wait and listen, 5 +Till the trodden gravel +Tells me, all impatience, +It is Phaon’s footstep. + + + + +XVIII + + +The courtyard of her house is wide +And cool and still when day departs. +Only the rustle of leaves is there + And running water. + +And then her mouth, more delicate 5 +Than the frail wood-anemone, +Brushes my cheek, and deeper grow + The purple shadows. + + + + +XIX + + +There is a medlar-tree +Growing in front of my lover’s house, + And there all day +The wind makes a pleasant sound. + +And when the evening comes, 5 +We sit there together in the dusk, + And watch the stars +Appear in the quiet blue. + + + + +XX + + +I behold Arcturus going westward +Down the crowded slope of night-dark azure, +While the Scorpion with red Antares +Trails along the sea-line to the southward. + +From the ilex grove there comes soft laughter,— 5 +My companions at their glad love-making,— +While that curly-headed boy from Naxos +With his jade flute marks the purple quiet. + + + + +XXI + + +Softly the first step of twilight +Falls on the darkening dial, +One by one kindle the lights + In Mitylene. + +Noises are hushed in the courtyard, 5 +The busy day is departing, +Children are called from their games,— + Herds from their grazing. + +And from the deep-shadowed angles +Comes the soft murmur of lovers, 10 +Then through the quiet of dusk + Bright sudden laughter. + +From the hushed street, through the portal, +Where soon my lover will enter, +Comes the pure strain of a flute 15 + Tender with passion. + + + + +XXII + + +Once you lay upon my bosom, +While the long blue-silver moonlight +Walked the plain, with that pure passion + All your own. + +Now the moon is gone, the Pleiads 5 +Gone, the dead of night is going; +Slips the hour, and on my bed + I lie alone. + + + + +XXIII + + +I loved thee, Atthis, in the long ago, +When the great oleanders were in flower +In the broad herded meadows full of sun. +And we would often at the fall of dusk +Wander together by the silver stream, 5 +When the soft grass-heads were all wet with dew, +And purple-misted in the fading light. +And joy I knew and sorrow at thy voice, +And the superb magnificence of love,— +The loneliness that saddens solitude, 10 +And the sweet speech that makes it durable,— +The bitter longing and the keen desire, +The sweet companionship through quiet days +In the slow ample beauty of the world, +And the unutterable glad release 15 +Within the temple of the holy night. +O Atthis, how I loved thee long ago +In that fair perished summer by the sea! + + + + +XXIV + + +I shall be ever maiden, +If thou be not my lover, +And no man shall possess me +Henceforth and forever. + +But thou alone shalt gather 5 +This fragile flower of beauty,— +To crush and keep the fragrance +Like a holy incense. + +Thou only shalt remember +This love of mine, or hallow 10 +The coming years with gladness, +Calm and pride and passion. + + + + +XXV + + +It was summer when I found you +In the meadow long ago,— +And the golden vetch was growing + By the shore. + +Did we falter when love took us 5 +With a gust of great desire? +Does the barley bid the wind wait + In his course? + + + + +XXVI + + +I recall thy white gown, cinctured +With a linen belt, whereon +Violets were wrought, and scented +With strange perfumes out of Egypt. + +And I know thy foot was covered 5 +With fair Lydian broidered straps; +And the petals from a rose-tree +Fell within the marble basin. + + + + +XXVII + + +Lover, art thou of a surety +Not a learner of the wood-god? +Has the madness of his music + Never touched thee? + +Ah, thou dear and godlike mortal, 5 +If Pan takes thee for his pupil, +Make me but another Syrinx + For that piping. + + + + +XXVIII + + +With your head thrown backward +In my arm’s safe hollow, +And your face all rosy +With the mounting fervour; + +While the grave eyes greaten 5 +With the wise new wonder, +Swimming in a love-mist +Like the haze of Autumn; + +From that throat, the throbbing +Nightingale’s for pleading, 10 +Wayward, soft, and welling +Inarticulate love-notes, + +Come the words that bubble +Up through broken laughter, +Sweeter than spring-water, 15 +“Gods, I am so happy!” + + + + +XXIX + + +Ah, what am I but a torrent, +Headstrong, impetuous, broken, +Like the spent clamour of waters + In the blue canyon? + +Ah, what art thou but a fern-frond, 5 +Wet with blown spray from the river, +Diffident, lovely, sequestered, + Frail on the rock-ledge? + +Yet, are we not for one brief day, +While the sun sleeps on the mountain, 10 +Wild-hearted lover and loved one, + Safe in Pan’s keeping? + + + + +XXX + + +Love shakes my soul, like a mountain wind + Falling upon the trees, +When they are swayed and whitened and bowed + As the great gusts will. + +I know why Daphne sped through the grove 5 + When the bright god came by, +And shut herself in the laurel’s heart + For her silent doom. + +Love fills my heart, like my lover’s breath + Filling the hollow flute, 10 +Till the magic wood awakes and cries + With remembrance and joy. + +Ah, timid Syrinx, do I not know + Thy tremor of sweet fear? +For a beautiful and imperious player 15 + Is the lord of life. + + + + +XXXI + + +Love, let the wind cry +On the dark mountain, +Bending the ash-trees +And the tall hemlocks, +With the great voice of 5 +Thunderous legions, +How I adore thee. + +Let the hoarse torrent +In the blue canyon, +Murmuring mightily 10 +Out of the grey mist +Of primal chaos, +Cease not proclaiming +How I adore thee. + +Let the long rhythm 15 +Of crunching rollers, +Breaking and bellowing +On the white seaboard, +Titan and tireless, +Tell, while the world stands, 20 +How I adore thee. + +Love, let the clear call +Of the tree-cricket, +Frailest of creatures, +Green as the young grass, 25 +Mark with his trilling +Resonant bell-note, +How I adore thee. + +Let the glad lark-song +Over the meadow, 30 +That melting lyric +Of molten silver, +Be for a signal +To listening mortals, +How I adore thee. 35 + +But more than all sounds, +Surer, serener, +Fuller with passion +And exultation, +Let the hushed whisper 40 +In thine own heart say, +How I adore thee. + + + + +XXXII + + +Heart of mine, if all the altars +Of the ages stood before me, +Not one pure enough nor sacred +Could I find to lay this white, white + Rose of love upon. 5 + +I who am not great enough to +Love thee with this mortal body +So impassionate with ardour, +But oh, not too small to worship + While the sun shall shine,— 10 + +I would build a fragrant temple +To thee, in the dark green forest, +Of red cedar and fine sandal, +And there love thee with sweet service + All my whole life long. 15 + +I would freshen it with flowers, +And the piney hill-wind through it +Should be sweetened with soft fervours +Of small prayers in gentle language + Thou wouldst smile to hear. 20 + +And a tinkling Eastern wind-bell, +With its fluttering inscription, +From the rafters with bronze music +Should retard the quiet fleeting + Of uncounted hours. 25 + +And my hero, while so human, +Should be even as the gods are, +In that shrine of utter gladness, +With the tranquil stars above it + And the sea below. 30 + + + + +XXXIII + +Never yet, love, in earth’s lifetime, +Hath any cunningest minstrel +Told the one seventh of wisdom, +Ravishment, ecstasy, transport, +Hid in the hue of the hyacinth’s 5 + Purple in springtime. + +Not in the lyre of Orpheus, +Not in the songs of Musæus, +Lurked the unfathomed bewitchment +Wrought by the wind in the grasses, 10 +Held by the rote of the sea-surf, + In early summer. + +Only to exquisite lovers, +Fashioned for beauty’s fulfilment, +Mated as rhythm to reed-stop 15 +Whence the wild music is moulded, +Ever appears the full measure + Of the world’s wonder. + + + + +XXXIV + + +“Who was Atthis?” men shall ask, +When the world is old, and time +Has accomplished without haste +The strange destiny of men. + +Haply in that far-off age 5 +One shall find these silver songs, +With their human freight, and guess +What a lover Sappho was. + + + + +XXXV + + +When the great pink mallow +Blossoms in the marshland, +Full of lazy summer +And soft hours, + +Then I hear the summons 5 +Not a mortal lover +Ever yet resisted, +Strange and far. + +In the faint blue foothills, +Making magic music, 10 +Pan is at his love-work +On the reeds. + +I can guess the heart-stop, +Fall and lull and sequence, +Full of grief for Syrinx 15 +Long ago. + +Then the crowding madness, +Wild and keen and tender, +Trembles with the burden +Of great joy. 20 + +Nay, but well I follow, +All unskilled, that fluting. +Never yet was reed-nymph +Like to thee. + + + + +XXXVI + + +When I pass thy door at night +I a benediction breathe: +“Ye who have the sleeping world + In your care, + +“Guard the linen sweet and cool, 5 +Where a lovely golden head +With its dreams of mortal bliss + Slumbers now!” + + + + +XXXVII + + +Well I found you in the twilit garden, +Laid a lover’s hand upon your shoulder, +And we both were made aware of loving +Past the reach of reason to unravel, +Or the much desiring heart to follow. 5 + +There we heard the breath among the grasses +And the gurgle of soft-running water, +Well contented with the spacious starlight, +The cool wind’s touch and the deep blue distance, +Till the dawn came in with golden sandals. 10 + + + + +XXXVIII + + +Will not men remember us +In the days to come hereafter,— +Thy warm-coloured loving beauty + And my love for thee? + +Thou, the hyacinth that grows 5 +By a quiet-running river; +I, the watery reflection + And the broken gleam. + + + + +XXXIX + + +I grow weary of the foreign cities, +The sea travel and the stranger peoples. +Even the clear voice of hardy fortune +Dares me not as once on brave adventure. + +For the heart of man must seek and wander, 5 +Ask and question and discover knowledge; +Yet above all goodly things is wisdom, +And love greater than all understanding. + +So, a mariner, I long for land-fall,— +When a darker purple on the sea-rim, 10 +O’er the prow uplifted, shall be Lesbos +And the gleaming towers of Mitylene. + + + + +XL + + +Ah, what detains thee, Phaon, +So long from Mitylene, +Where now thy restless lover +Wearies for thy coming? + +A fever burns me, Phaon; 5 +My knees quake on the threshold, +And all my strength is loosened, +Slack with disappointment. + +But thou wilt come, my Phaon, +Back from the sea like morning, 10 +To quench in golden gladness +The ache of parted lovers. + + + + +XLI + + +Phaon, O my lover, +What should so detain thee, + +Now the wind comes walking +Through the leafy twilight? + +All the plum-leaves quiver 5 +With the coolth and darkness, + +After their long patience +In consuming ardour. + +And the moving grasses +Have relief; the dew-drench 10 + +Comes to quell the parching +Ache of noon they suffered. + +I alone of all things +Fret with unsluiced fire. + +And there is no quenching 15 +In the night for Sappho, + +Since her lover Phaon +Leaves her unrequited. + + + + +XLII + + +O heart of insatiable longing, +What spell, what enchantment allures thee +Over the rim of the world +With the sails of the sea-going ships? + +And when the rose-petals are scattered 5 +At dead of still noon on the grass-plot, +What means this passionate grief,— +This infinite ache of regret? + + + + +XLIII + + +Surely somehow, in some measure, +There will be joy and fulfilment,— +Cease from this throb of desire,— + Even for Sappho! + +Surely some fortunate hour 5 +Phaon will come, and his beauty +Be spent like water to plenish + Need of that beauty! + +Where is the breath of Poseidon, +Cool from the sea-floor with evening? 10 +Why are Selene’s white horses + So long arriving? + + + + +XLIV + + +O but my delicate lover, +Is she not fair as the moonlight? +Is she not supple and strong + For hurried passion? + +Has not the god of the green world, 5 +In his large tolerant wisdom, +Filled with the ardours of earth + Her twenty summers? + +Well did he make her for loving; +Well did he mould her for beauty; 10 +Gave her the wish that is brave + With understanding. + +“O Pan, avert from this maiden +Sorrow, misfortune, bereavement, +Harm, and unhappy regret,” 15 + Prays one fond mortal. + + + + +XLV + + +Softer than the hill-fog to the forest +Are the loving hands of my dear lover, +When she sleeps beside me in the starlight +And her beauty drenches me with rest. + +As the quiet mist enfolds the beech-trees, 5 +Even as she dreams her arms enfold me, +Half awaking with a hundred kisses +On the scarlet lily of her mouth. + + + + +XLVI + + +I seek and desire, +Even as the wind +That travels the plain +And stirs in the bloom +Of the apple-tree. 5 + +I wander through life, +With the searching mind +That is never at rest, +Till I reach the shade +Of my lover’s door. 10 + + + + +XLVII + + +Like torn sea-kelp in the drift +Of the great tides of the sea, +Carried past the harbour-mouth +To the deep beyond return, + +I am buoyed and borne away 5 +On the loveliness of earth, +Little caring, save for thee, +Past the portals of the night. + + + + +XLVIII + + +Fine woven purple linen +I bring thee from Phocæa, +That, beauty upon beauty, +A precious gift may cover +The lap where I have lain. 5 + +And a gold comb, and girdle, +And trinkets of white silver, +And gems are in my sea-chest, +Lest poor and empty-handed +Thy lover should return. 10 + +And I have brought from Tyre +A Pan-flute stained vermilion, +Wherein the gods have hidden +Love and desire and longing, +Which I shall loose for thee. 15 + + + + +XLIX + + +When I am home from travel, +My eager foot will stay not +Until I reach the threshold +Where I went forth from thee. + +And there, as darkness gathers 5 +In the rose-scented garden, +The god who prospers music +Shall give me skill to play. + +And thou shalt hear, all startled, +A flute blown in the twilight, 10 +With the soft pleading magic +The green wood heard of old. + +Then, lamp in hand, thy beauty +In the rose-marble entry! +And unreluctant Hermes 15 +Shall give me words to say. + + + + +L + + +When I behold the pharos shine +And lay a path along the sea, +How gladly I shall feel the spray, +Standing upon the swinging prow; + +And question of my pilot old, 5 +How many watery leagues to sail +Ere we shall round the harbour reef +And anchor off the wharves of home! + + + + +LI + + +Is the day long, +O Lesbian maiden, +And the night endless +In thy lone chamber +In Mitylene? 5 + +All the bright day, +Until welcome evening +When the stars kindle +Over the harbour, +What tasks employ thee? 10 + +Passing the fountain +At golden sundown, +One of the home-going +Traffickers, hast thou +Thought of thy lover? 15 + +Nay, but how far +Too brief will the night be, +When I returning +To the dear portal +Hear my own heart beat! 20 + + + + +LII + + +Lo, on the distance a dark blue ravine, +A fold in the mountainous forests of fir, +Cleft from the sky-line sheer down to the shore! + +Above are the clouds and the white, pealing gulls, +At its foot is the rough broken foam of the sea, 5 +With ever anon the long deep muffled roar,— +A sigh from the fitful great heart of the world. + +Then inland just where the small meadow begins, +Well bulwarked with boulders that jut in the tide, +Lies safe beyond storm-beat the harbour in sun. 10 + +See where the black fishing-boats, each at its buoy, +Ride up on the swell with their dare-danger prows, +To sight o’er the sea-rim what venture may come! + +And look, where the narrow white streets of the town +Leap up from the blue water’s edge to the wood, 15 +Scant room for man’s range between mountain and sea, +And the market where woodsmen from over the hill +May traffic, and sailors from far foreign ports +With treasure brought in from the ends of the earth. + +And see the third house on the left, with that gleam 20 +Of red burnished copper—the hinge of the door +Whereat I shall enter, expected so oft +(Let love be your sea-star!), to voyage no more. + + + + +LIII + + +Art thou the top-most apple +The gatherers could not reach, +Reddening on the bough? + Shall not I take thee? + +Art thou a hyacinth blossom 5 +The shepherds upon the hills +Have trodden into the ground? + Shall not I lift thee? + +Free is the young god Eros, +Paying no tribute to power, 10 +Seeing no evil in beauty, + Full of compassion. + +Once having found the beloved, +However sorry or woeful, +However scornful of loving, 15 + Little it matters. + + + + +LIV + + +How soon will all my lovely days be over, +And I no more be found beneath the sun,— +Neither beside the many-murmuring sea, +Nor where the plain-winds whisper to the reeds, +Nor in the tall beech-woods among the hills 5 +Where roam the bright-lipped Oreads, nor along +The pasture-sides where berry-pickers stray +And harmless shepherds pipe their sheep to fold! + +For I am eager, and the flame of life +Burns quickly in the fragile lamp of clay. 10 +Passion and love and longing and hot tears +Consume this mortal Sappho, and too soon +A great wind from the dark will blow upon me, +And I be no more found in the fair world, +For all the search of the revolving moon 15 +And patient shine of everlasting stars. + + + + +LV + + +Soul of sorrow, why this weeping? +What immortal grief hath touched thee +With the poignancy of sadness,— + Testament of tears? + +Have the high gods deigned to show thee 5 +Destiny, and disillusion +Fills thy heart at all things human, + Fleeting and desired? + +Nay, the gods themselves are fettered +By one law which links together 10 +Truth and nobleness and beauty, + Man and stars and sea. + +And they only shall find freedom +Who with courage rise and follow +Where love leads beyond all peril, 15 + Wise beyond all words. + + + + +LVI + + +It never can be mine +To sit in the door in the sun +And watch the world go by, +A pageant and a dream; + +For I was born for love, 5 +And fashioned for desire, +Beauty, passion, and joy, +And sorrow and unrest; + +And with all things of earth +Eternally must go, 10 +Daring the perilous bourn +Of joyance and of death, + +A strain of song by night, +A shadow on the hill, +A hint of odorous grass, 15 +A murmur of the sea. + + + + +LVII + + +Others shall behold the sun +Through the long uncounted years,— +Not a maid in after time + Wise as thou! + +For the gods have given thee +Their best gift, an equal mind 5 +That can only love, be glad, + And fear not. + + + + +LVIII + + +Let thy strong spirit never fear, +Nor in thy virgin soul be thou afraid. +The gods themselves and the almightier fates +Cannot avail to harm + +With outward and misfortunate chance 5 +The radiant unshaken mind of him +Who at his being’s centre will abide, +Secure from doubt and fear. + +His wise and patient heart shall share +The strong sweet loveliness of all things made, 10 +And the serenity of inward joy +Beyond the storm of tears. + + + + +LIX + + +Will none say of Sappho, +Speaking of her lovers, +And the love they gave her,— +Joy and days and beauty, +Flute-playing and roses, 5 +Song and wine and laughter,— + +Will none, musing, murmur, +“Yet, for all the roses, +All the flutes and lovers, +Doubt not she was lonely 10 +As the sea, whose cadence +Haunts the world for ever.” + + + + +LX + + +When I have departed, +Say but this behind me, +“Love was all her wisdom, + All her care. + +“Well she kept love’s secret,— 5 +Dared and never faltered,— +Laughed and never doubted + Love would win. + +“Let the world’s rough triumph +Trample by above her, 10 +She is safe forever + From all harm. + +“In a land that knows not +Bitterness nor sorrow, +She has found out all 15 + Of truth at last.” + + + + +LXI + + +There is no more to say now thou art still, +There is no more to do now thou art dead, +There is no more to know now thy clear mind +Is back returned unto the gods who gave it. + +Now thou art gone the use of life is past, 5 +The meaning and the glory and the pride, +There is no joyous friend to share the day, +And on the threshold no awaited shadow. + + + + +LXII + + +Play up, play up thy silver flute; +The crickets all are brave; +Glad is the red autumnal earth + And the blue sea. + +Play up thy flawless silver flute; 5 +Dead ripe are fruit and grain. +When love puts on his scarlet coat, + Put off thy care. + + + + +LXIII + + +A beautiful child is mine, +Formed like a golden flower, +Cleis the loved one. +And above her I value +Not all the Lydian land, 5 +Nor lovely Hellas. + + + + +LXIV + + +Ah, but now henceforth +Only one meaning +Has life for me. + +Only one purport, +Measure and beauty, 5 +Has the bright world. + +What mean the wood-winds, +Colour and morning, +Bird, stream, and hill? + +And the brave city 10 +With its enchantment? +Thee, only thee! + + + + +LXV + + +Softly the wind moves through the radiant morning, +And the warm sunlight sinks into the valley, +Filling the green earth with a quiet joyance, + Strength, and fulfilment. + +Even so, gentle, strong and wise and happy, 5 +Through the soul and substance of my being, +Comes the breath of thy great love to me-ward, + O thou dear mortal. + + + + +LXVI + + +What the west wind whispers +At the end of summer, +When the barley harvest +Ripens to the sickle, + Who can tell? 5 + +What means the fine music +Of the dry cicada, +Through the long noon hours +Of the autumn stillness, + Who can say? 10 + +How the grape ungathered +With its bloom of blueness +Greatens on the trellis +Of the brick-walled garden, + Who can know? 15 + +Yet I, too, am greatened, +Keep the note of gladness, +Travel by the wind’s road, +Through this autumn leisure,— + By thy love. 20 + + + + +LXVII + + +Indoors the fire is kindled; +Beechwood is piled on the hearthstone; +Cold are the chattering oak-leaves; +And the ponds frost-bitten. + +Softer than rainfall at twilight, 5 +Bringing the fields benediction +And the hills quiet and greyness, +Are my long thoughts of thee. + +How should thy friend fear the seasons? +They only perish of winter 10 +Whom Love, audacious and tender, +Never hath visited. + + + + +LXVIII + + +You ask how love can keep the mortal soul +Strong to the pitch of joy throughout the years. + +Ask how your brave cicada on the bough +Keeps the long sweet insistence of his cry; + +Ask how the Pleiads steer across the night 5 +In their serene unswerving mighty course; + +Ask how the wood-flowers waken to the sun, +Unsummoned save by some mysterious word; + +Ask how the wandering swallows find your eaves +Upon the rain-wind with returning spring; 10 + +Ask who commands the ever-punctual tide +To keep the pendulous rhythm of the sea; + +And you shall know what leads the heart of man +To the far haven of his hopes and fears. + + + + +LXIX + + +Like a tall forest were their spears, +Their banners like a silken sea, +When the great host in splendour passed +Across the crimson sinking sun. + +And then the bray of brazen horns 5 +Arose above their clanking march, +As the long waving column filed +Into the odorous purple dusk. + +O lover, in this radiant world +Whence is the race of mortal men, 10 +So frail, so mighty, and so fond, +That fleets into the vast unknown? + + + + +LXX + + +My lover smiled, “O friend, ask not +The journey’s end, nor whence we are. +That whistling boy who minds his goats +So idly in the grey ravine, + +“The brown-backed rower drenched with spray, 5 +The lemon-seller in the street, +And the young girl who keeps her first +Wild love-tryst at the rising moon,— + +“Lo, these are wiser than the wise. +And not for all our questioning 10 +Shall we discover more than joy, +Nor find a better thing than love! + +“Let pass the banners and the spears, +The hate, the battle, and the greed; +For greater than all gifts is peace, 15 +And strength is in the tranquil mind.” + + + + +LXXI + + +Ye who have the stable world +In the keeping of your hands. +Flocks and men, the lasting hills, +And the ever-wheeling stars; + +Ye who freight with wondrous things 5 +The wide-wandering heart of man +And the galleon of the moon, +On those silent seas of foam; + +Oh, if ever ye shall grant +Time and place and room enough 10 +To this fond and fragile heart +Stifled with the throb of love, + +On that day one grave-eyed Fate, +Pausing in her toil, shall say, +“Lo, one mortal has achieved 15 +Immortality of love!” + + + + +LXXII + + +I heard the gods reply: +“Trust not the future with its perilous chance; +The fortunate hour is on the dial now. + +“To-day be wise and great, +And put off hesitation and go forth 5 +With cheerful courage for the diurnal need. + +“Stout be the heart, nor slow +The foot to follow the impetuous will, +Nor the hand slack upon the loom of deeds. + +“Then may the Fates look up 10 +And smile a little in their tolerant way, +Being full of infinite regard for men.” + + + + +LXXIII + + +The sun on the tide, the peach on the bough, +The blue smoke over the hill, +And the shadows trailing the valley-side, +Make up the autumn day. + +Ah, no, not half! Thou art not here 5 +Under the bronze beech-leaves, +And thy lover’s soul like a lonely child +Roams through an empty room. + + + + +LXXIV + + +If death be good, +Why do the gods not die? +If life be ill, +Why do the gods still live? + +If love be naught, 5 +Why do the gods still love? +If love be all, +What should men do but love? + + + + +LXXV + + +Tell me what this life means, +O my prince and lover, +With the autumn sunlight +On thy bronze-gold head? + +With thy clear voice sounding 5 +Through the silver twilight,— +What is the lost secret +Of the tacit earth? + + + + +LXXVI + + +Ye have heard how Marsyas, +In the folly of his pride, +Boasted of a matchless skill,— +When the great god’s back was turned; + +How his fond imagining 5 +Fell to ashes cold and grey, +When the flawless player came +In serenity and light. + +So it was with those I loved +In the years ere I loved thee. 10 +Many a saying sounds like truth, +Until Truth itself is heard. + +Many a beauty only lives +Until Beauty passes by, +And the mortal is forgot 15 +In the shadow of the god. + + + + +LXXVII + + +Hour by hour I sit, +Watching the silent door. +Shadows go by on the wall, +And steps in the street. + +Expectation and doubt 5 +Flutter my timorous heart. +So many hurrying home— +And thou still away. + + + + +LXXVIII + + +Once in the shining street, +In the heart of a seaboard town, +As I waited, behold, there came +The woman I loved. + +As when, in the early spring, 5 +A daffodil blooms in the grass, +Golden and gracious and glad, +The solitude smiled. + + + + +LXXIX + + +How strange is love, O my lover! +With what enchantment and power +Does it not come upon mortals, +Learned or heedless! + +How far away and unreal, 5 +Faint as blue isles in a sunset +Haze-golden, all else of life seems, +Since I have known thee! + + + + +LXXX + + +How to say I love you: +What, if I but live it, +Were the use in that, love? + Small, indeed. + +Only, every moment 5 +Of this waking lifetime +Let me be your lover + And your friend! + +Ah, but then, as sure as +Blossom breaks from bud-sheath, 10 +When along the hillside + Spring returns, + +Golden speech should flower +From the soul so cherished, +And the mouth your kisses 15 + Filled with fire. + + + + +LXXXI + + +Hark, love, to the tambourines +Of the minstrels in the street, +And one voice that throbs and soars +Clear above the clashing time! + +Some Egyptian royal love-lilt, 5 +Some Sidonian refrain, +Vows of Paphos or of Tyre, +Mount against the silver sun. + +Pleading, piercing, yet serene, +Vagrant in a foreign town, 10 +From what passion was it born, +In what lost land over sea? + + + + +LXXXII + + +Over the roofs the honey-coloured moon, +With purple shadows on the silver grass, + +And the warm south-wind on the curving sea, +While we two, lovers past all turmoil now, + +Watch from the window the white sails come in, 5 +Bearing what unknown ventures safe to port! + +So falls the hour of twilight and of love +With wizardry to loose the hearts of men, + +And there is nothing more in this great world +Than thou and I, and the blue dome of dusk. 10 + + + + +LXXXIII + + +In the quiet garden world, +Gold sunlight and shadow leaves +Flicker on the wall. + +And the wind, a moment since, +With rose-petals strewed the path 5 +And the open door. + +Now the moon-white butterflies +Float across the liquid air, +Glad as in a dream; + +And, across thy lover’s heart, 10 +Visions of one scarlet mouth +With its maddening smile. + + + + +LXXXIV + + +Soft was the wind in the beech-trees; +Low was the surf on the shore; +In the blue dusk one planet +Like a great sea-pharos shone. + +But nothing to me were the sea-sounds, 5 +The wind and the yellow star, +When over my breast the banner +Of your golden hair was spread. + + + + +LXXXV + + +Have you heard the news of Sappho’s garden, +And the Golden Rose of Mitylene, +Which the bending brown-armed rowers lately +Brought from over sea, from lonely Pontus? + +In a meadow by the river Halys, 5 +Where some wood-god hath the world in keeping, +On a burning summer noon they found her, +Lovely as a Dryad, and more tender. + +Her these eyes have seen, and not another +Shall behold, till time takes all things goodly, 10 +So surpassing fair and fond and wondrous,— +Such a slave as, worth a great king’s ransom, + +No man yet of all the sons of mortals +But would lose his soul for and regret not; +So hath Beauty compassed all her children 15 +With the cords of longing and desire. + +Only Hermes, master of word music, +Ever yet in glory of gold language +Could ensphere the magical remembrance +Of her melting, half sad, wayward beauty, 20 + +Or devise the silver phrase to frame her, +The inevitable name to call her, +Half a sigh and half a kiss when whispered, +Like pure air that feeds a forge’s hunger. + +Not a painter in the Isles of Hellas 25 +Could portray her, mix the golden tawny +With bright stain of poppies, or ensanguine +Like the life her darling mouth’s vermilion, + +So that, in the ages long hereafter, +When we shall be dust of perished summers, 30 +Any man could say who found that likeness, +Smiling gently on it, “This was Gorgo!” + + + + +LXXXVI + + +Love is so strong a thing, +The very gods must yield, +When it is welded fast +With the unflinching truth. + +Love is so frail a thing, 5 +A word, a look, will kill. +Oh lovers, have a care +How ye do deal with love. + + + + +LXXXVII + + +Hadst thou, with all thy loveliness, been true, +Had I, with all my tenderness, been strong, +We had not made this ruin out of life, +This desolation in a world of joy, + My poor Gorgo. 5 + +Yet even the high gods at times do err; +Be therefore thou not overcome with woe, +But dedicate anew to greater love +An equal heart, and be thy radiant self + Once more, Gorgo. 10 + + + + +LXXXVIII + + +As, on a morn, a traveller might emerge +From the deep green seclusion of the hills, +By a cool road through forest and through fern, +Little frequented, winding, followed long +With joyous expectation and day-dreams, 5 +And on a sudden, turning a great rock +Covered with frondage, dark with dripping water, +Behold the seaboard full of surf and sound, +With all the space and glory of the world +Above the burnished silver of the sea,— 10 + +Even so it was upon that first spring day +When time, that is a devious path for men, +Led me all lonely to thy door at last; +And all thy splendid beauty, gracious and glad, +(Glad as bright colour, free as wind or air, 15 +And lovelier than racing seas of foam) +Bore sense and soul and mind at once away +To a pure region where the gods might dwell, +Making of me, a vagrant child before, +A servant of joy at Aphrodite’s will. 20 + + + + +LXXXIX + + +Where shall I look for thee, +Where find thee now, +O my lost Atthis? + +Storm bars the harbour, +And snow keeps the pass 5 +In the blue mountains. + +Bitter the wind whistles, +Pale is the sun, +And the days shorten. + +Close to the hearthstone, 10 +With long thoughts of thee, +Thy lonely lover + +Sits now, remembering +All the spent hours +And thy fair beauty. 15 + +Ah, when the hyacinth +Wakens with spring, +And buds the laurel, + +Doubt not, some morning +When all earth revives, 20 +Hearing Pan’s flute-call + +Over the river-beds, +Over the hills, +Sounding the summons, + +I shall look up and behold 25 +In the door, +Smiling, expectant, + +Loving as ever +And glad as of old, +My own lost Atthis! 30 + + + + +XC + + +A sad, sad face, and saddest eyes that ever + Beheld the sun, +Whence came the grief that makes of all thy beauty + One sad sweet smile? + +In this bright portrait, where the painter fixed them, 5 + I still behold +The eyes that gladdened, and the lips that loved me, + And, gold on rose, + +The cloud of hair that settles on one shoulder + Slipped from its vest. 10 +I almost hear thy Mitylenean love-song + In the spring night, + +When the still air was odorous with blossoms, + And in the hour +Thy first wild girl’s-love trembled into being, 15 + Glad, glad and fond. + +Ah, where is all that wonder? What god’s malice + Undid that joy +And set the seal of patient woe upon thee, + O my lost love? 20 + + + + +XCI + + +Why have the gods in derision +Severed us, heart of my being? +Where have they lured thee to wander, + O my lost lover? + +While now I sojourn with sorrow, 5 +Having remorse for my comrade, +What town is blessed with thy beauty, + Gladdened and prospered? + +Nay, who could love as I loved thee, +With whom thy beauty was mingled 10 +In those spring days when the swallows + Came with the south wind? + +Then I became as that shepherd +Loved by Selene on Latmus, +Once when her own summer magic 15 + Took hold upon her + +With a sweet madness, and thenceforth +Her mortal lover must wander +Over the wide world for ever, + Like one enchanted. 20 + + + + +XCII + + +Like a red lily in the meadow grasses, +Swayed by the wind and burning in the sunlight, +I saw you, where the city chokes with traffic, +Bearing among the passers-by your beauty, +Unsullied, wild, and delicate as a flower. 5 +And then I knew, past doubt or peradventure, +Our loved and mighty Eleusinian mother +Had taken thought of me for her pure worship, +And of her favour had assigned my comrade +For the Great Mysteries,—knew I should find you 10 +When the dusk murmured with its new-made lovers, +And we be no more foolish but wise children, +And well content partake of joy together, +As she ordains and human hearts desire. + + + + +XCIII + + +When in the spring the swallows all return, +And the bleak bitter sea grows mild once more, +With all its thunders softened to a sigh; + +When to the meadows the young green comes back, +And swelling buds put forth on every bough, 5 +With wild-wood odours on the delicate air; + +Ah, then, in that so lovely earth wilt thou +With all thy beauty love me all one way, +And make me all thy lover as before? + +Lo, where the white-maned horses of the surge, 10 +Plunging in thunderous onset to the shore, +Trample and break and charge along the sand! + + + + +XCIV + + +Cold is the wind where Daphne sleeps, +That was so tender and so warm +With loving,—with a loveliness +Than her own laurel lovelier. + +Now pipes the bitter wind for her, 5 +And the snow sifts about her door, +While far below her frosty hill +The racing billows plunge and boom. + + + + +XCV + + +Hark, where Poseidon’s +White racing horses +Trample with tumult +The shelving seaboard! + +Older than Saturn, 5 +Older than Rhea, +That mournful music, +Falling and surging + +With the vast rhythm +Ceaseless, eternal, 10 +Keeps the long tally +Of all things mortal. + +How many lovers +Hath not its lulling +Cradled to slumber +With the ripe flowers, 15 + +Ere for our pleasure +This golden summer +Walked through the corn-lands +In gracious splendour! 20 + +How many loved ones +Will it not croon to, +In the long spring-days +Through coming ages, + +When all our day-dreams 25 +Have been forgotten, +And none remembers +Even thy beauty! + +They too shall slumber +In quiet places, 30 +And mighty sea-sounds +Call them unheeded. + + + + +XCVI + + +Hark, my lover, it is spring! +On the wind a faint far call +Wakes a pang within my heart, +Unmistakable and keen. + +At the harbour mouth a sail 5 +Glimmers in the morning sun, +And the ripples at her prow +Whiten into crumbling foam, + +As she forges outward bound +For the teeming foreign ports. 10 +Through the open window now, +Hear the sailors lift a song! + +In the meadow ground the frogs +With their deafening flutes begin,— +The old madness of the world 15 +In their golden throats again. + +Little fifers of live bronze, +Who hath taught you with wise lore +To unloose the strains of joy, +When Orion seeks the west? 20 + +And you feathered flute-players, +Who instructed you to fill +All the blossomy orchards now +With melodious desire? + +I doubt not our father Pan 25 +Hath a care of all these things. +In some valley of the hills +Far away and misty-blue, + +By quick water he hath cut +A new pipe, and set the wood 30 +To his smiling lips, and blown, +That earth’s rapture be restored. + +And those wild Pandean stops +Mark the cadence life must keep. +O my lover, be thou glad; 35 +It is spring in Hellas now. + + + + +XCVII + + +When the early soft spring wind comes blowing +Over Rhodes and Samos and Miletus, +From the seven mouths of Nile to Lesbos, +Freighted with sea-odours and gold sunshine, + +What news spreads among the island people 5 +In the market-place of Mitylene, +Lending that unwonted stir of gladness +To the busy streets and thronging doorways? + +Is it word from Ninus or Arbela, +Babylon the great, or Northern Imbros? 10 +Have the laden galleons been sighted +Stoutly labouring up the sea from Tyre? + +Nay, ’tis older news that foreign sailor +With the cheek of sea-tan stops to prattle +To the young fig-seller with her basket 15 +And the breasts that bud beneath her tunic, + +And I hear it in the rustling tree-tops. +All this passionate bright tender body +Quivers like a leaf the wind has shaken, +Now love wanders through the aisles of springtime. 20 + + + + +XCVIII + + +I am more tremulous than shaken reeds, +And love has made me like the river water. + +Thy voice is as the hill-wind over me, +And all my changing heart gives heed, my lover. + +Before thy least lost murmur I must sigh, 5 +Or gladden with thee as the sun-path glitters. + + + + +XCIX + + +Over the wheat-field, +Over the hill-crest, +Swoops and is gone +The beat of a wild wing, +Brushing the pine-tops, 5 +Bending the poppies, +Hurrying Northward +With golden summer. + +What premonition, +O purple swallow, 10 +Told thee the happy +Hour of migration? +Hark! On the threshold +(Hush, flurried heart in me!), +Was there a footfall? 15 +Did no one enter? + +Soon will a shepherd +In rugged Dacia, +Folding his gentle +Ewes in the twilight, 20 +Lifting a level +Gaze from the sheepfold, +Say to his fellows, +“Lo, it is springtime.” + +This very hour 25 +In Mitylene, +Will not a young girl +Say to her lover, +Lifting her moon-white +Arms to enlace him, 30 +Ere the glad sigh comes, +“Lo, it is lovetime!” + + + + +C + + +Once more the rain on the mountain, +Once more the wind in the valley, +With the soft odours of springtime +And the long breath of remembrance, + O Lityerses! 5 + +Warm is the sun in the city. +On the street corners with laughter +Traffic the flower-girls. Beauty +Blossoms once more for thy pleasure + In many places. 10 + +Gentlier now falls the twilight, +With the slim moon in the pear-trees; +And the green frogs in the meadows +Blow on shrill pipes to awaken + Thee, Lityerses. 15 + +Gladlier now crimson morning +Flushes fair-built Mitylene,— +Portico, temple, and column,— +Where the young garlanded women +Praise thee with singing. 20 + +Ah, but what burden of sorrow +Tinges their slow stately chorus, +Though spring revisits the glad earth? +Wilt thou not wake to their summons, + O Lityerses? 25 + +Shall they then never behold thee,— +Nevermore see thee returning +Down the blue cleft of the mountains, +Nor in the purple of evening + Welcome thy coming? 30 + +Nevermore answer thy glowing +Youth with their ardour, nor cherish +With lovely longing thy spirit, +Nor with soft laughter beguile thee, + O Lityerses? 35 + +Heedless, assuaged, art thou sleeping +Where the spring sun cannot find thee, +Nor the wind waken, nor woodlands +Bloom for thy innocent rapture +Through golden hours? 40 + +Hast thou no passion nor pity +For thy deserted companions? +Never again will thy beauty +Quell their desire nor rekindle, + O Lityerses? 45 + +Nay, but in vain their clear voices +Call thee. Thy sensitive beauty +Is become part of the fleeting +Loveliness, merged in the pathos + Of all things mortal. 50 + +In the faint fragrance of flowers, +On the sweet draft of the sea-wind, +Linger strange hints now that loosen +Tears for thy gay gentle spirit, + O Lityerses! 55 + + + + +EPILOGUE + + +Now the hundred songs are made, +And the pause comes. Loving Heart, +There must be an end to summer, +And the flute be laid aside. + +On a day the frost will come, 5 +Walking through the autumn world, +Hushing all the brave endeavour +Of the crickets in the grass. + +On a day (Oh, far from now!) +Earth will hear this voice no more; 10 +For it shall be with thy lover +As with Linus long ago. + +All the happy songs he wrought +From remembrance soon must fade, +As the wash of silver moonlight 15 +From a purple-dark ravine. + +Frail as dew upon the grass +Or the spindrift of the sea, +Out of nothing they were fashioned +And to nothing must return. 20 + +Nay, but something of thy love, +Passion, tenderness, and joy, +Some strange magic of thy beauty, +Some sweet pathos of thy tears, + +Must imperishably cling 25 +To the cadence of the words, +Like a spell of lost enchantments +Laid upon the hearts of men. + +Wild and fleeting as the notes +Blown upon a woodland pipe, 30 +They must haunt the earth with gladness +And a tinge of old regret. + +For the transport in their rhythm +Was the throb of thy desire, +And thy lyric moods shall quicken 35 +Souls of lovers yet unborn. + +When the golden days arrive, +With the swallow at the eaves, +And the first sob of the south-wind +Sighing at the latch with spring, 40 + +Long hereafter shall thy name +Be recalled through foreign lands, +And thou be a part of sorrow +When the Linus songs are sung. + + + + +PRINTED AT +THE DE LA MORE PRESS +32 GEORGE STREET +HANOVER SQUARE +LONDON W + + + + +[Illustration: The King’s Classics] + +CHATTO AND WINDUS + +111 St. Martin’s Lane, London + + + + +A CONCISE LIST OF THE KING’S CLASSICS + +GENERAL EDITOR: + +PROFESSOR I. GOLLANCZ, Litt.D. + + +ALTHOUGH The King’s Classics are to be purchased for ⅙ net per volume, +the series is unique in that + + (1) the letterpress, paper, and binding are unapproached by any + similar series. + + (2) “Competent scholars in every case have supervised this series, + which can therefore be received with confidence.”—_Athenæum_, + + (3) With few exceptions, the volumes in this series are included in no + similar series, while several are copyright. + + + + +THE KING’S CLASSICS + +UNDER THE GENERAL EDITORSHIP OF PROFESSOR I. GOLLANCZ, LITT.D. + +“Right Royal Series.”—_Literary World._ + + +“We note with pleasure that competent scholars in every case have +supervised this Series, which can therefore be received with +confidence.”—_Athenæum_. + +The Series of “King’s Classics,” issued under the General Editorship +of Professor I. GOLLANCZ, aims at introducing to the larger reading +public many noteworthy works of literature not readily accessible in +cheap form, or not hitherto rendered into English. Each volume is +edited by some expert scholar, and has a summary introduction dealing +with the main and essential facts of the literary history of the book; +at the end there are the necessary notes for a right understanding of +references and textual difficulties; where necessary, there is also a +carefully-compiled index. As will be at once seen from the accompanying +list, much original and new work has been secured for the Series, +and it will be recognised that the “King’s Classics” differentiate +themselves in a very marked way from the many reprints of popular books. + +It should be noted, however, that while primarily rare masterpieces +are included in the “King’s Classics,” modern popular classics, more +especially such as have not yet been adequately or at all annotated, +are not excluded from the Series. + + * * * * * + +NOTE.—_At the date of this list, May 1, 1907, Nos. 1-35 were published. +Numbers subsequent to 35 are at press or about to go to press._ + + + + +The “King’s Classics” are printed on antique laid paper, 16mo. (6 X 4½ +inches), gilt tops, and are issued in the following styles and prices. +Each volume has a frontispiece, usually in photogravure. + + Quarter bound, antique grey boards, ⅙ net. + + Red Cloth, ⅙ net. + + Quarter Vellum, grey cloth sides, 2/6 net. + + Special three-quarter Vellum, Oxford side-papers, gilt tops, silk + marker, 5/- net. + + ***Nos. 2, 20 and 24 are double volumes. Price, Boards or Cloth, 3/- + net; Quarter Vellum, 5/- net; special three-quarter Vellum, 7/6 net. + + +1. THE LOVE OF BOOKS: being the Philobiblon of RICHARD DE BURY. + +Translated by E.C. THOMAS. Frontispiece, Seal of Richard de Bury (as +Bishop of Durham). + + +3. THE CHRONICLE OF JOCELIN OF BRAKELOND, MONK OF ST. EDMUNDSBURY: a +Picture of Monastic and Social Life in the XIIth Century. + +Newly translated, from the original Latin, with notes, table of dates +relating to the Abbey of St. Edmundsbury, and index, by L.C. JANE, +M.A., sometime Exhibitioner in Modern History at University College, +Oxon., and with an Introduction by the Right Rev. Abbot GASQUET. +Frontispiece, Seal of Abbot Samson (A.D. 1200). + + +***20. THE NUN’S RULE, or Ancren Riwle, in Modern English. + +Being the injunctions of Bishop Poore intended for the guidance of +nuns or anchoresses, as set forth in the famous thirteenth-century MS. +referred to above. + +Editor, the Right Rev. Abbot GASQUET. Frontispiece, Seal of Bishop +Poore. + +_Double volume._ + + +17. MEDIÆVAL, LORE. + +From Bartholomæus Anglicus. Edited with notes, index and glossary by +ROBERT STEELE. Preface by the late WILLIAM MORRIS. Frontispiece, an old +illumination, representing Astrologers using Astrolabes. + +[The book is drawn from one of the most widely-read works of mediæval +times. Its popularity is explained by its scope, which comprises +explanations of allusions to natural objects met with in Scripture and +elsewhere. It was, in fact, an account of the properties of things in +general.] + + +11. THE ROMANCE OF FULK FITZWARINE. + +Newly translated from the Anglo-French by ALICE KEMP-WELCH, with an +introduction by Professor BRANDIN. Frontispiece, Whittington Castle in +Shropshire, the seat of the Fitzwarines. + + +45. THE SONG OF ROLAND. + +Newly translated from the old French by Mrs. CROSLAND. Introduction by +Professor BRANDIN, University of London. Frontispiece. + + +22. EARLY LIVES OF CHARLEMAGNE. + +Translated and edited by A.J. GRANT. With frontispiece representing an +early bronze figure of Charlemagne from the Musée Carnavalet, Paris. + +We have here given us two “Lives” of Charlemagne by contemporary +authorities—one by Eginhard and the other by the Monk of St. Gall. Very +different in style, when brought together in one volume each supplies +the deficiencies of the other. + + +35. WINE, WOMEN, AND SONG. + +Mediæval students’ songs, translated from the Latin, with an essay, by +JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS. Frontispiece after a fifteenth-century woodcut. + + +18. THE VISION OF PIERS THE PLOWMAN. + +By WILLIAM LANGLAND; _in modern English by_ Professor SKEAT, Litt.D. +Frontispiece, “God Speed the Plough,” from an old MS. + + +8. CHAUCER’S KNIGHT’S TALE, or Palamon and Arcite. + +_In modern English by_ Professor SKEAT, Litt.D. Frontispiece, “The +Canterbury Pilgrims,” from an illuminated MS. + + +9. CHAUCER’S MAN OF LAW’S TALE, Squire’s Tale, and Nun’s Priest’s Tale. + +_In modern English by_ Professor SKEAT, Litt.D. Frontispiece from an +illuminated MS. + + +10. CHAUCER’S PRIORESS’S TALE, Pardoner’s Tale, Clerk’s Tale, and +Canon’s Yeoman’s Tale. + +_In modern English by_ Professor SKEAT, Litt.D. Frontispiece, “The +Patient Griselda,” from the well-known fifteenth-century picture of the +Umbrian School in the National Gallery. + + +41. CHAUCER’S LEGEND OF GOOD WOMEN. + +_In modern English_, with notes and introduction, by Professor W.W. +SKEAT, Litt.D. Frontispiece, “Ariadne Deserted,” after the painting by +ANGELICA KAUFMANN. + +36, 37. GEORGE PETTIE’S “PETITE PALACE OF PETTIE HIS PLEASURE.” + +The popular Elizabethan book containing twelve classical love-stories— +“Sinorex and Camma,” “Tereus and Progne,” etc.—in style the precursor +of Euphues, now first reprinted under the editorship of Professor I. +GOLLANCZ. Frontispieces, a reproduction of the original title, and of +an original page. + +_In two volumes_. + + +21. THE MEMOIRS OF ROBERT CARY, Earl of Monmouth. + +Being a contemporary record of the life of that nobleman as Warden of +the Marches and at the Court of Elizabeth. + +Editor, G.H. POWELL. With frontispiece from the original edition, +representing Queen Elizabeth in a state procession, with the Earl of +Monmouth and others in attendance. + + +19. THE GULL’S HORNBOOK. + +By THOMAS DEKKER. Editor, R.B. MCKERROW. Frontispiece, The nave of St. +Paul’s Cathedral at the time of Elizabeth. + + +29. SHAKESPEARE’S SONNETS. + +Editor, C.C. STOPES. Frontispiece, Portrait of the Earl of Southampton. + + +4. THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE, Knight. + +By his son-in-law, WILLIAM ROPER. With letters to and from his famous +daughter, Margaret Roper. Frontispiece, Portrait of Sir Thomas More, +after Holbein. + + +33. THE HOUSEHOLD OF SIR THOMAS MORE. By ANNE MANNING. Preface by +RICHARD GARNETT. Frontispiece, “The Family of Sir Thomas More.” + + +40. SIR THOMAS MORE’S UTOPIA. + +Now for the first time edited from _the first edition by_ ROBERT +STEELE. Frontispiece, Portrait of Sir Thomas More, after an early +engraving. + + +44. THE FOUR LAST THINGS, together with the Life of Pico della +Mirandola and the English Poems. + +By Sir THOMAS MORE. Edited by DANIEL O’CONNOR. Frontispiece after two +designs from the “Daunce of Death.” + + +43. SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE’S ESSAY ON GARDENS, together with other Carolean +Essays on Gardens. + +Edited, and with notes and introduction, by A. FORBES SIEVEKING, F.S.A. +Frontispiece, Portrait of Sir William Temple, and five reproductions of +early “garden” engravings. + + +5. EIKON BASILIKE: or, The King’s Book. + +Edited by EDWARD ALMACK, F.S.A. Frontispiece, Portrait of King Charles +I. This edition, which has been printed from an advance copy of the +King’s Book seized by Cromwell’s soldiers, is the first inexpensive +one for a hundred years in which the original spelling of the first +edition has been preserved. + +6, 7. KINGS’ LETTERS. + +Part I. Letters of the Kings of England, from Alfred to the Coming of +the Tudors, newly edited from the originals by ROBERT STEELE, F.S.A. +Frontispiece, Portrait of Henry V. + +Part II. From the Early Tudors, with the love-letters of Henry VIII. +and Anne Boleyn, and with frontispiece, Portrait of Anne Boleyn. + +Parts III. and IV., bringing the series up to modern times, will +shortly be announced under the same editorship. + + +39. THE ROYAL POETS OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND. + +Being Original Poems by English Kings and other Royal and Noble +Persons, now first collected and edited by W. BAILEY-KEMPLING. +Frontispiece, Portrait of King James I. of Scotland, after an early +engraving. + + +13. THE LIFE OF MARGARET GODOLPHIN. + +By JOHN EVELYN, the famous diarist. Re-edited from the edition of +Samuel Wilberforce, Bishop of Oxford. Frontispiece, Portrait of +Margaret Godolphin engraved on copper. + + +15. THE FALSTAFF LETTERS. + +Editor, JAMES WHITE, possibly with the assistance of CHARLES LAMB, _cf. +the Introduction_. Frontispiece, Sir John Falstaff dancing to Master +Brooks’ fiddle, from the original edition. + + +14. EARLY LIVES OF DANTE. + +Comprising Boccaccio’s Life of Dante, Leonardo Bruni’s Life of Dante, +and other important contemporary records. + +Translated and edited by the Rev. PHILIP H. WICKSTEED. Frontispiece, +The Death-mask of Dante. + + +46. DANTE’S VITA NUOVA. + +The Italian text with D.G. ROSSETTI’S translation on the opposite page. +Introduction and notes by Professor H. OELSNER Ph.D., Lecturer in +Romance Literature, Oxford University. Frontispiece after the original +water-colour sketch for “Dante’s Dream,” by D.G. ROSSETTI. + + +12. THE STORY OF CUPID AND PSYCHE. + +From “The Golden Ass” of Apuleius, translated by W. ADLINGTON (1566), +edited by W.H.D. ROUSE, Litt.D. With frontispiece representing the +“Marriage of Cupid and Psyche,” after a gem now in the British Museum. + + +23. CICERO’S “FRIENDSHIP,” “OLD AGE,” AND “SCIPIO’S DREAM.” + +From early translations. Editor, W.H.D. ROUSE, Litt.D. Frontispiece, +“Scipio, Laelius and Cato conversing,” from a fourteenth-century MS. + + +***2. SIX DRAMAS OF CALDERON. + +Translated by EDWARD FITZGERALD. Editor, H. OELSNER, M.A., Ph.D. +Frontispiece, Portrait of Calderon, from an etching by M. EGUSQUIZA. + +_Double volume._ + + +42. SWIFT’S BATTLE OF THE BOOKS. + +Edited, and with notes and introduction. Frontispiece. + + +38. WALPOLE’S CASTLE OF OTRANTO. + +The introduction of Sir WALTER SCOTT. Preface by Miss C. SPURGEON. +Frontispiece, Portrait of Walpole, after a contemporary engraving. + + +30. GEORGE ELIOT’S SILAS MARNER. + +Frontispiece, Portrait of George Eliot, from a water-colour drawing by +Mrs. CHARLES BRAY. Introduction by RICHARD GARNETT. + + +31. GOLDSMITH’S VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. + +Introduction by RICHARD GARNETT. Frontispiece, Portrait of Oliver +Goldsmith. + + +32. PEG WOFFINGTON. + +By CHARLES READE. Frontispiece, Portrait of Peg Woffington. +Introduction by RICHARD GARNETT. + + +16. POLONIUS, a Collection of Wise Saws and Modern Instances. + +By EDWARD FITZGERALD. With portrait of Edward FitzGerald from the +miniature by Mrs. E.M.B. RIVETT-CARNAC as frontispiece; notes and +index. Contains a preface by EDWARD FITZGERALD, on Aphorisms generally. + + +***24. WORDSWORTH’S PRELUDE. + +The introduction and notes have been written by W. BASIL WORSFOLD, +M.A., and the frontispiece is taken from the portrait of Wordsworth +by H.W. PICKERSGILL, R.A., in the National Gallery. A map of the Lake +District is added. + +_Double volume_. + + +25. THE DEFENCE OF GUENEVERE and other Poems by WILLIAM MORRIS. + +Editor, ROBERT STEELE. With reproduction of DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI’S +picture of “Lancelot and Guenevere at King Arthur’s tomb” as +frontispiece. + +26, 27. BROWNING’S “MEN AND WOMEN.” + +Edited with introduction and notes by W. BASIL WORSFOLD, M.A. Two +volumes, each with portrait of Browning as frontispiece. + +_In two volumes_. + + +28. POE’S POEMS. + +Editor, EDWARD HUTTON. Frontispiece, Poe’s cottage. + + +34. SAPPHO: One Hundred Lyrics By BLISS CARMAN, With frontispiece after +a Greek gem. + +_To be continued_. + +NOTE.—_At the date of this list, May_ 1, 1907, Nos. 1-35 were +published. Numbers subsequent to 35 are at press or about to go to +press_. + + +CHATTO AND WINDUS, 111 ST. MARTIN’S LANE, LONDON, W.C. + + + + +THE SHAKESPEARE CLASSICS + +A Series of volumes of reprints, under the general editorship of +Professor I. GOLLANCZ, embodying the Romances, Novels, and Plays used +by Shakespeare as the direct sources and originals of his plays. 6½ +x 5¼ inches, gilt tops, in the following styles. Each volume will +contain a photogravure frontispiece reproduction of the original title. +Publication of Nos. 1 and 2 in June; No. 3 in September, and thereafter +at short intervals. + +Quarter-bound antique grey boards, 2/6 net. + +Whole gold brown velvet persian, 4/- net. + +Three-quarter vellum, Oxford side-papers, gilt tops, silk marker, 6/- +net; Postage, 4_d_. + +FIRST VOLUMES + + +1. LODGE’S “ROSALYNDE”: the original of Shakespeare’s “As You Like It.” + +Edited by W.W. GREG, M.A. + + +2. GREENE’S “DORASTUS AND FAWNIA”: the original of Shakespeare’s +“Winter’s Tale.” + +Edited by P.G. THOMAS, Professor of English Literature, Bedford +College, University of London. + + +3. BROOKE’S POEM OF “ROMEUS AND JULIET”: the original of Shakespeare’s +“Romeo and Juliet,” as edited by P.A. DANIEL, modernised and re-edited +by J.J. MUNRO. + + +4. “THE TROUBLESOME REIGN OF KING JOHN”: the Play rewritten by +Shakespeare as “King John.” + +Edited by F.J. FURNIVALL, D. Litt. + +5, 6. “THE HISTORY OF HAMLET.” Together with other Documents +illustrative of the source of Shakespeare’s play, and an Introductory +Study of the Legend of Hamlet by Professor I. GOLLANCZ, Litt.D., who +also edits the work. (NOTE.—No. 6 will fill 2 volumes.) + + +7. “THE PLAY OF KING LEIR AND HIS THREE DAUGHTERS”: the old play on the +subject of King Lear. + +Edited by SIDNEY LEE, D. Litt. + +*** _Also 520 special sets (500 for sale) on larger paper, about 7½ +x 5¾ inches, half-bound parchment, boards, gilt tops, as a Library +Edition. Sold in sets only. Per volume, 5/- net; Postage, 4d._ + +***Among other items THE SHAKESPEARE LIBRARY—of which the above +Series forms the first section—will contain a complete Old-spelling +Shakespeare, edited by Dr. FURNIVALL. A full prospectus of The +Shakespeare Library is in preparation, and will be sent post free on +application. + +_R. Clay & Sons, Ltd., London and Bungay._ + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12389 *** |