Farewell To Anactoria

(Sappho) Never the tramp of foot or horse, Nor lusty cries from ship at sea, Shall I call loveliest on the dark earth- My heart moves lovingly. I say that what one loves is best: The midnight fastness of the heart. Helen, you took the beauty of men With unpitying art! White Paris from Idean hills For you the Trojan towers razed Who swiftly ploughed the black seas Had on your white arm gazed! Oh, how loving from afar Led you to grief, for in your mind The present was too light, as ever Among fair womankind. . . . So, Anactoria, go you away With what calm carelessness of sorrow! Your gleaming footstep and your grace, When comes another morrow, Much would I rather then behold Than Lydian cars or infantry. I ask the lot of blessedness, Beloved, in memory.