Page:Hephaestus, Persephone at Enna, and Sappho in Leucadia.djvu/19

 and Mother, let me smooth thy brow And cling about thee for a little time With these pale hands,—for see, still at the glow Of all this white-houred noon and alien sun I tremble like a new-born nightingale Blown from its nest into bewildering rain.

How shall I tell thee, Mother, of those days My aching eyes saw not this azure sea Of air, unknown in Death’s gray Underworld And only whispered of by restless Shades Rememb’ring shadowy things across their dusk?— Or how I often asked: “Canst thou, dark heart, Remember home? So far and long forlorn Canst thou, my heart, remember Sicily?” Then didst thou, weeping, call Persephone The Many-Songed, and where thy lonely voice Once fell all greenness faded and the song Of birds all died, and down from brazen heights A blood-red sun long noon by sullen noon On ashen days and desolation shone; And cattle lowed about the withered springs, And Earth gaped wide, each arid Evening moaned