Florence Earle Coates - Sappho lyrics

As a wan weaver in an attic dim, Hopeless yet patient, so he may be fed With scanty store of sorrow-seasoned bread, Heareth a blithe bird carol over him, And sees no longer walls and rafters grim, But rural lanes where little feet are led Through springing flowers, fields with clover spread, Clouds, swan-like, that o'er depths of azure swim,— So when upon our earth-dulled ear new breaks Some fragment, Sappho, of thy skyey song, A noble wonder in our souls awakes; The d**hless Beautiful draws strangely nigh, And we look up and marvel how so long We were content to drudge for sordid joys that die.