LVII

Others shall behold the sun
Through the long uncounted years,—­
Not a maid in after time
  Wise as thou!

For the gods have given thee
Their best gift, an equal mind 5
That can only love, be glad,
  And fear not.

LVIII

Let thy strong spirit never fear,
Nor in thy virgin soul be thou afraid. 
The gods themselves and the almightier fates
Cannot avail to harm

With outward and misfortunate chance 5
The radiant unshaken mind of him
Who at his being’s centre will abide,
Secure from doubt and fear.

His wise and patient heart shall share
The strong sweet loveliness of all things made, 10
And the serenity of inward joy
Beyond the storm of tears.

LIX

Will none say of Sappho,
Speaking of her lovers,
And the love they gave her,—­
Joy and days and beauty,
Flute-playing and roses, 5
Song and wine and laughter,—­

Will none, musing, murmur,
“Yet, for all the roses,
All the flutes and lovers,
Doubt not she was lonely 10
As the sea, whose cadence
Haunts the world for ever.”

LX

When I have departed,
Say but this behind me,
“Love was all her wisdom,
  All her care.

“Well she kept love’s secret,—­ 5
Dared and never faltered,—­
Laughed and never doubted
  Love would win.

“Let the world’s rough triumph
Trample by above her, 10
She is safe forever
  From all harm.

“In a land that knows not
Bitterness nor sorrow,
She has found out all 15
  Of truth at last.”

LXI

There is no more to say now thou art still,
There is no more to do now thou art dead,
There is no more to know now thy clear mind
Is back returned unto the gods who gave it.

Now thou art gone the use of life is past, 5
The meaning and the glory and the pride,
There is no joyous friend to share the day,
And on the threshold no awaited shadow.

LXII

Play up, play up thy silver flute;
The crickets all are brave;
Glad is the red autumnal earth
  And the blue sea.

Play up thy flawless silver flute; 5
Dead ripe are fruit and grain. 
When love puts on his scarlet coat,
  Put off thy care.