Tuesday, June 3, 2008

A Night in Lesbos by George Horton

The moon has left the sky,
The Pleiades are flown,
Midnight is creeping nigh,
And I am still alone.

Ah me! how long, how long
Are all these weary hours!
I hate the night-bird’s song
Among the Lesbian flowers.

I hate the soft, sweet breeze
That comes to kiss my hair
From oleander trees
And waters cool and fair.

My heart is fierce and wild;
The winds should rave and moan.
Ah! why is Nature mild
When I am here alone?

While yet the silver moon
Rode o’er the laughing sea,
My heart was glad, for, “Soon,”
I said, “he comes to me.”

But when its placid sphere
Slid swiftly ’neath the wave,
I sighed, “He is not here.
Be brave, my heart, be brave!”

Then for an age of woe,
Of doubts and hopings vain,
I watched the white stars snow
On you Ægean plain.

I named them by their names—
Alcyone, and all
Those far and happy flames
On which we mortals call.

“Ere that one sets,” I said,
“My soul shall swim in bliss;”
And then, “Ere that is fled
My lips shall feel his kiss.”

The moon has left the Pole,
The Pleiades are flown;
’T is midnight in my soul,
And I am here alone!

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