Sappho - Clëis lyrics

Daughter of mine, so fair, With a form like a golden flower, Wherefore thy pensive air And the dreams in the myrtle bower? Clëis, beloved, thy eyes That are turned from my gaze, thy hand That trembles so, I prize More than all the Lydian land; More than the lovely hills With the Lesbian olive crowned;— Tell me, darling, what ills In the gloom of thy thought are found? Daughter of mine, come near And thy head on my knees recline; Whisper and never fear, For the beat of thy heart is mine. Sweet mother, I can turn With content to my loom no more; My bosom throbs, I yearn For a youth that my eyes adore; Lykas of Eresus, Whom I knew when a little child; My heart by Love is thus With the sweetest of pain beguiled.