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!