But when once you have paired and built your nest, And can brood therein with a settled breast, You will sing once more, and your voice will stir All hearts with the sweetness gained from her. Its note is sweet as the coo of the dove But 'tis only one note, and the note is Love. So how should you, poet, hope to sing? The lute of Love hath a single string. You hear her feet when the branches stir And sunrise and sunset and starlight only Make their beauty, without her, feel more lonely. When you gaze on the moon, you see but her.
So gladly to her I you resign, Her caress is tenderer much than mine I hover round you, and hear her kiss With wonder at its melodiousness. Click the answer to find similar crossword clues. Enter the length or pattern for better results. The Crossword Solver finds answers to classic crosswords and cryptic crossword puzzles. One looks and listens the way she went, As towards lark that is lost in the firmament. The Crossword Solver found 29 answers to 'greek muse of poetry', 7 letters crossword clue. She is sweeter far than the sweetest song. You watch her breathing from morn till night She is all your hearing and all your sight. Another hath entered and nestles deep In the lap of your love, like a babe asleep. It will tell you what keepeth us twain apart. (The Muse answers) Poet, look in your poet's heart. Through the gloaming broadens the harvest moon The fagged hind whistles his homeward tune The last load creaks up the hamlet hill 'Tis only my voice, my voice that is still. The thinned copse sighs like a heart forsaken, But not one chord of my soul is shaken. In the orchard reddens the rounded fruit 'Mid the yellowing leaves, but my voice is mute. And vision, and feeling, and sound, and scent, Were the strings of a sensitive instrument, That silently, patiently, watched and waited, And unto my soul reverberated. The moon went up in a cloudless sky, Silently but melodiously And the glitter of stars and the patter of rain Were notes and chords of an endless strain. Joy came on the wings of a jocund lay, And sorrow in harmony passed away And the sunny hours of tideless time Were buoyed on the surges of rolling rhyme. Apparently her birthplace was either Eressos or Mytilene, the main city on the island. She was born probably about 620 BCE to an aristocratic family on the island of Lesbos during a great cultural flowering in the area. The fragrant languor of cradled noon Was lulled by the hum of a self-sung tune. Little is known with certainty about the life of Sappho, or Psappha in her native Aeolic dialect. When the night turned pale and the stars grew dim, The morning chanted a dewy hymn.
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What have I done to banish thee? But a moon ago, the whole day long My ears were full of the sound of song And still through my darkly silent dreams Plashed the fitful music of far-off streams. This unusual reading of classical mythology (overlooked by earlier critics) has played an important role in her formation as a poet and may be demonstrated. Whither, and whence, and why hast fled? Thou art dumb, my muse thou art dumb, thou art dead, As a waterless stream, as a leafless tree.
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