Damophyla

Cold of heart and strangely Uninclined to passion, Wisdom’s vigil leaves thee, Proud Damophyla.

Sapphics thou hast written, Verses in my metre, With a skill surpassing In the melic art.

Love’s superb enchantment Thou art fain to banish, Like the virgin Huntress Long by thee adored.

Molded by thy tunic, Every arching contour Of her chaste and noble Form I dream to see;

Even view her stepping From the leafy covert Down the dawn-white valley, Stately as a stag.

Long I sued but found thee Deaf to all entreaty, Till one summer twilight Listless in the heat;

Soothed by slumber’s languor, And my low monodic Voice that hymned a paean In the praise of love;

Loth to yield yet vanquished, As I knelt beside thee, All thy long resistance To my kiss succumbed.

ANAGORA

Anagora, fairest Spoil of fateful battle, Babylonian temples Knew thy luring song.

Wrested from barbaric Captors for thy beauty, Thou wert made a priestess At Mylitta’s shrine.

Once these flexile fingers Clasped in mine so closely, Neath the temple’s arches Thrummed the tabor soft.

Thou hast taught me secrets Of the cryptic chambers, How the zonahs worship In the burning East;

Raptures that my wildest Dreaming never pictured, Arts of love that charmed me, Subtle, new and strange.

Hearken to my earnest Prayer, O Aphrodite! May the night be doubled Now for our delight.

PHAON