Let but th’ inviolable music shake Golden on golden flake, Down to the human throng, And one, one surely, will look up and hear and wake. Weigh not the rapture; measure not nor sift God’s dark, delirious gift; But deaf to immortality or gain, Give as the shining rain, Thy music pure and swift, And here or there, sometime, somewhere, ‘twill reach the grain. SAPPHO IN LEVKAS Zeus, my Father, once again I stand before Thee; once, and then no more. Here in the calm, deep night, Far, far from Lesbos and the madness there, Here, where the alien sea about my feet Is clean and sacred with Thine awe, I come, Sappho, Thy child alone, To speak with Thee as in the old, exalted days.
