 | Poems |  |
38
SONG. SAPPHO TO HER MOTHER.
[_]
PARAPHRASED FROM THE FOLLOWING FRAGMENT OF SAPPHO PUBLISHED BY FULVIUS URSINUS.
Γλυκεια ματερ, ουτοι
Δυναμαι πρεπειν τον ιστον,
Ποθω δαμεισα παιδος,
Βραδιναν δι' Αφροδιταν.
Δυναμαι πρεπειν τον ιστον,
Ποθω δαμεισα παιδος,
Βραδιναν δι' Αφροδιταν.
Ah! though my harp neglected stands,
Which once so sweetly used to sound,
The sport of Zephyr's wanton hands;
And though my tresses are unbound;
Ah! though I spend the night in sighs,
And strive my tears from day to hide,
Pride of my life—joy of my eyes—
My dearest mother—do not chide!
Which once so sweetly used to sound,
The sport of Zephyr's wanton hands;
And though my tresses are unbound;
39
And strive my tears from day to hide,
Pride of my life—joy of my eyes—
My dearest mother—do not chide!
For, oh! in every thrilling vein
A secret influence I own;
Young Love asserts his mighty reign,
And claims me for himself alone,—
Steals every thought, each sense pursues;
And all, which was so late my pride,
Now, lost in love, unnotic'd sues,
Yet, dearest mother, do not chide!
A secret influence I own;
Young Love asserts his mighty reign,
And claims me for himself alone,—
Steals every thought, each sense pursues;
And all, which was so late my pride,
Now, lost in love, unnotic'd sues,
Yet, dearest mother, do not chide!
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