Page:Sappho and the Vigil of Venus (1920).djvu/33

Rh Ah, sleep I cannot: soft-cushioned bed

Wooes never my wearied frame to sleep;

No pillow brings rest to my throbbing head.

From my couch, as one in a nightmare, I leap.

Ever Eros is tossing to and fro

My spirit, as when great storm-winds blow

O'er a tempest-tormented mountain-steep,

And down on its groaning oak-woods sweep;

So groaneth my spirit, love-scourged so.

This is my song of maidens dear to me.

Eranna, a slight girl I counted thee,

When first I looked upon thy form and face,

Slim as a reed, and all devoid of grace.

But stately stature, grace and beauty came

Unto thee with the years—O, dost not shame

For this, Eranna, that thy pride hath grown

Therewith? Alas for thee! I have not known

One beauty ever of more scornful mien,

As though thou wert of all earth's daughters queen!

Mnasidica is comelier, perchance,

Than my Gyrinna—ah, but sweetly rings

Gyrinna's matchless voice! In rapture-trance

I listen, listen, while Gyrinna sings.