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I saw the Lesbian Sappho bowed in light Before the sapphire altar of the sea— Song-swept, a lyre on which in threnody Th' ascendant tremors of her spirit's might Thrilled chord on chord to music. In my flight From dream to dream, I paused; I wept while she Sang till I saw the western glory flee, A molten pearl , one with the wine of night. I know not if the blossom of their day, In Paradise, be blesses with fairer fruit; If deeper ecstasies of music may, Dying or latent, fill their fancied lute, Or happier tear-drops find the olden way, Ere yet the twilight seraphim be mute.