I. HYMN TO APHRODITE II. ODE TO ANACTORIA III. WHERE BLOOMS THE MYRTLE IV. I LOVED THEE V. INVOCATION VI. CLAÏS VII. TO A SWALLOW VIII. LOVE IX. WEDDING SONG X. EVENING XI. MAIDENHOOD XII. MOONLIGHT XIII. ORCHARD SONG XIV. DICA XV. GRACE XVI. AS ON THE HILLS XVII. TO ATTHIS XVIII. AS WIND UPON THE MOUNTAIN OAKS XIX. GOODNESS. XX. THE FISHERMAN'S TOMB XXI. TIMAS XXII. DEAD SHALT THOU LIE XXIII. DEATH XXIV. ALCÆUS AND SAPPHO XXV. THE ALTAR XXVI. THE ALTAR XXVII. LOVE XXVIII. LIKE THE SWEET APPLE XXIX. PROPHESY XXX. FOR THEE XXXI. FRIEND XXXII. THE MOON HAS SET XXXIII. THE SKY XXXIV. TO HER LYRE XXXV. NEVER ON ANY MAIDEN XXXVI. * * * XXXVII. ANGER XXXVIII. ADONIS XXXIX. LEDA XL. THE CAPTIVE XLI. INVOCATION XLII. YOUTH AND AGE XLIII. FRAGMENT XLIV. THE LESBIAN SINGER. XLV. ON THE TOMB OF A PRIESTES OF ARTEMIS XLVI. TO A BRIDE XLVII. HERMES XLVIII. ADONIS XLIX. SLEEP L. THY FORM IS LOVELY LI. THE BRIDEGROOM LII. REGRET LIII. FRAGMENT LIV. SAPPHO TO PHAON I HYMN TO APHRODITE Daughter of Zeus and Immortal, Aphrodite, serene Weaver of spells, at thy portal Hear me and slay not, O Queen! As in the past, hither to me From thy far palace of gold, Drawn by the doves that o'erflew me, Come, as thou earnest of old. Swiftly thy flock bore thee hither, Smiling, as turned I to thee, Spoke thou across the blue weather, "Sappho, why callest thou me?" "Sappho, what Beauty disdains thee, Sappho, who wrongest thine heart, Sappho, what evil now pains thee, Whence sped the dart? "Flies from thee, soon she shall follow, Turns from thee, soon she shall love, Seeking thee swift as the swallow, Ingrate though now she may prove." Come, once again to release me, Join with my fire thy fire, Freed from the torments that seize me, Give me, O Queen! my desire! II ODE TO ANACTORIA That man, whoever he may be, Who sits awhile to gaze on thee, Hearing thy lovely laugh, thy speech, Throned with the gods he seems to me; For when a moment to mine eyes Thy form discloses, silently I stand consumed with fires that rise Like flames around a sacrifice. Sight have I none, bells out of tune Ring in mine ears, my tongue lies dumb; Paler than grass in later June, Yet daring all (To thee I come). III WHERE BLOOMS THE MYRTLE O Muse, upon thy golden throne, Far in the azure, fair, alone. Sing what the Teian sweetly sang,-- The Teian sage whose lineage sprang Where blooms the myrtle in the gay Land of fair women far away. IV