To Cleis

by Sara Teasdale

　　

---

(The daughter of Sappho) When the dusk was wet with dew, Cleïs, did the muses nine Listen in a silent line While your mother sang to you? Did they weep or did they smile When she crooned to still your cries, She, a muse in human guise Who forsook her lyre awhile Did you hear her wild heart beat? Did the warmth of all the sun Through your little body run When she kissed your hands and feet? Did your fingers, babywise, Touch her face and touch her hair Did you think your mother fair, Could you bear her burning eyes? Are the songs that soothed your fears Vanished like a vanished flame, Save the line where shines your name Starlike down the graying years?... Cleïs speaks no word to me, For the land where she has gone Lies as still at dusk and dawn, As a windless, tideless sea.

---

---