Poems | ||
ALCÆUS TO SAPPHO.
Oh, were she mine! oh, were she mine!
I would not envy kings;
I would not ask another joy
That time, existence, brings;
Thou maddening dream! I thrill—I burn,
Drunk with a bliss divine;
Oh, what an utter blank were all,
All else, were she but mine!
I would not envy kings;
I would not ask another joy
That time, existence, brings;
Thou maddening dream! I thrill—I burn,
Drunk with a bliss divine;
Oh, what an utter blank were all,
All else, were she but mine!
Out, dusty thoughts; out, aims that grey
The pulsing life of youth;
Fools—fools—to fling the years away
In doting search for truth;
A clinging lip—a dewy eye—
A palm that throbs to thine,
These—these are love; these—these are life;
Oh, were she—were she mine!
The pulsing life of youth;
Fools—fools—to fling the years away
In doting search for truth;
A clinging lip—a dewy eye—
A palm that throbs to thine,
These—these are love; these—these are life;
Oh, were she—were she mine!
Poems | ||