FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   12   13   14   15   16   17   18   19   20   21   22   23   24   25   26   27   28   29   30   31   32   33   34   35   36  
37   38   39   40   41   42   43   44   45   46   47   48   49   50   51   52   53   54   >>  
evermore shall _one_ win o'er The sea, to any land. _Oh, they shall bring the East back, And they shall bring the West, The seven fleets our Venice sets A-sail upon her quest. But some shall bring despair back And some shall leave their keels Deeper than wind or wave frets, Or sun ever steals._ BASKING Give me a spot in the sun, With a lizard basking by me, In Sicily, over the sea, Where Winter is sweet as Spring, Where Etna lifts his plume Of curling smoke to try me, But all in vain for I will not climb His height so ravishing. Give me a spot in the sun, So high on a cliff that, under, Far down, the flecking sails Like white moths flit the blue; That over me on a crag There hangs, O aery wonder, A white town drowsing in its nest That cypress-tops peep thro. Give me a spot in the sun, With contadini singing, And a goat-boy at his pipes And donkey bells heard round Upon steep mountain paths Where a peasant cart comes swinging Mid joyous hot invectives--that So blameless here abound. Give me a spot in the sun, In a land whose speech is flowers, Whose breath is Hybla-sweet, Whose soul is still a faun's, Whose limbs the sea enlaps, Thro long delicious hours, With liquid tenderness and light Sweet as Elysian dawns. Give me a spot in the sun With a view past vale and villa, Past grottoed isle and sea To Italy and the Cape Around whose turning lies Old heathen-hearted Scylla, Whom may an ancient sailor prayed The gods he might escape. Give me a spot in the sun: With sly old Pan as lazy As I, ever to tempt me To disbelief and doubt Of all gods else, from Jove To Bacchus born wine-crazy. Give me, I say, a spot in the sun, And Realms I'll do without! SAPPHO'S DEATH SONG (_On her sea-cliff in Leucady_) What have I gathered the years did not take from me? (Swallows, hear, as you fly from the cold!) Whom have I bound to me never to break from me? (Whom, O wind of the wold?) Whom, O wind! O hunter of spirits! (Pierce his spirit whose spear is in mine!) Then let Oblivion loose this ache from me, Proserpine! Lyre and the laurel the Muses gave to me, (Why
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   12   13   14   15   16   17   18   19   20   21   22   23   24   25   26   27   28   29   30   31   32   33   34   35   36  
37   38   39   40   41   42   43   44   45   46   47   48   49   50   51   52   53   54   >>  



Top keywords:

Scylla

 

hearted

 

sailor

 

prayed

 

ancient

 

escape

 

liquid

 

tenderness

 
Elysian
 

delicious


enlaps

 

Around

 
turning
 
grottoed
 

heathen

 

spirits

 

hunter

 

Pierce

 

spirit

 

laurel


Proserpine
 

Oblivion

 

Swallows

 
Realms
 

Bacchus

 

disbelief

 

gathered

 

Leucady

 

SAPPHO

 

Winter


Sicily

 

Spring

 

basking

 
steals
 

BASKING

 
lizard
 

curling

 
height
 
ravishing
 

fleets


evermore
 

Venice

 
Deeper
 

despair

 

mountain

 

peasant

 

donkey

 

swinging

 
speech
 

abound