{"collection":"Classics","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/cla/pos/pos10.htm","path":"cla/pos/pos10.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/cla/pos/pos10.htm","text":"The Poems of Sappho, by John Myers O'Hara, [1910]\nAll around through the apple boughs in blossom\n Murmur cool the breezes of early summer,\n And from leaves that quiver above me gently\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Slumber is shaken;\nGlades of poppies swoon in the drowsy languor,\n Dreaming roses bend, and the oleanders\n Bask and nod to drone of bees in the silent\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Fervor of noontide;\nMyrtle coverts hedging the open vista,\n Dear to nightly frolic of Nymph and Satyr,\n Yield a mossy bed for the brown and weary\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Limbs of the shepherd.\nEcho ever wafts through the drooping frondage,\n Ceaseless silver murmur of water falling\n In the grotto cool of the Nymphs, the sacred\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Haunt of Immortals;\nDown the sides of rocks that are gray and lichened\n Trickle tiny rills, whose expectant tinkle\n Drips with gurgle hushed in the clear glimmering\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Depths of the basin.\nFair on royal couches of leaves recumbent,\n Interspersed with languor of waxen lilies,\n Lotus flowers empurple the pool whose edge is\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Cushioned with mosses;\nHere recline the Nymphs at the hour of twilight,\n Back in shadows dim of the cave, their golden\n Sea-green eyes half lidded, up to their supple\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Waists in the water.\nSheltered once by ferns I espied them binding\n Tresses long, the tint of lilac and orange;\n Just beyond the shimmer of light their bodies\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Roseate glistened;\nDeftly, then, they girdled their loins with garlands,\n Linked with leaves luxuriant limb and shoulder;\n On their breasts they bruised the red blood of roses\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Fresh from the garden.\nShe of orange hair was the Nymph Euxanthis,\n And the lilac-tressed were Iphis and Io;\n How they laughed, relating at length their ease in\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Evading the Satyr.","title":"The Poems of Sappho: Sapphics: The Garden of the Nymphs","type":"page"}