ALCAEUS TO SAPPHO

How sweet, when crimson colours dart

Across a breast of snow,

To see that you are in the heart

That beats and throbs below.

All Heaven is in a maiden's blush,

In which the soul doth speak,

That it was you who sent the flush

Into the maiden's cheek.

Large steadfast eyes! eyes gently rolled

In shades of changing blue,

How sweet are they, if they behold

No dearer sight than you.

And, can a lip more richly glow,

Or be more fair than this?

The world will surely answer, No!

I, SAPPHO, answer, Yes!

Then grant one smile, tho’ it should mean

A thing of doubtful birth;

That I may say these eyes have seen

The fairest face on earth!