Sappho — Dawn

Just now the golden-sandalled Dawn Peered through the lattice of my room;                 Why must thou fare so soon, my Phaon? Last night I met thee at the shore, A thousand hues were in the sky;                 The breeze from Cyprus blew, my Phaon! I drew, to lave thy heated brow, My kerchief dripping from the sea;                 Why hadst thou sailed so far, my Phaon? Far up the narrow mountain paths We heard the shepherds fluting home;                 Like some white God thou seemed, my Phaon! And through the olive trees we saw The twinkle of my vesper lamp;                 Wilt kiss me now as then, my Phaon? Nay, loosen not with gentle force The clasp of my restraining arms;                 I will not let thee go, my Phaon! See, deftly in my trailing robe I spring and draw the lattice close;                 Is it not night again, my Phaon?