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Sara Teasdale - To Cleïs
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(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.
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