dots-menu
×

Home  »  An American Anthology, 1787–1900  »  1453 A Night in Lesbos

Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.

By GeorgeHortom

1453 A Night in Lesbos

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, “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!