SAPPHO’S EXPOSTULATION.
Forget thee? when? Thou biddest me? dost thou
Bid me, what men alone can, break my vow?
O my too well beloved! is there aught
I ever have forgot which thou hast taught?
And shall the lesson first by thee imprest
Drop, chapter after chapter, from my breast?
Since love’s last flickering flame from thine is gone,
Leave me, O leave me still, at least my own.
Let it burn on, if only to consume,
And light me, tho’ it light me to the tomb.
False are our dreams or there are fields below
To which the weariest feet the swiftest go;
And there are bitter streams the wretched bless,
Before whose thirst they lose their bitterness.
’Tis hard to love! to unlove harder yet!
Not so to die.. and then.. perhaps.. forget.