The arrangement in this little volume is approximately chronological in sequence. This should serve to illustrate the severe and restrained simplicity of the earlier writers as contrasted with the more complex and conscious thought, and the more elaborate expression of later centuries when the horizons of Hellenism had been vastly extended.
The interpretation of these lyrics has been my sole and grateful distraction during a period of ceaseless work and intense anxiety in the tragic years of 1914 and 1915.
SAPPHO-- I. A BITTER WORD II. THE BELOVED PRESENCE III. HESPER IV. OUT OF REACH
ANACREONTICA-- I. LOVE'S CHALLENGE II. BACCHANAL III. HER PORTRAIT IV. METAMORPHOSIS V. APOLOGIA
SIMONIDES-- I. ON THE SPARTANS II. ON THE ATHENIANS
PLATO-- I. A GRAVE IN PERSIA II. STARWORSHIP III. THE UNSET STAR IV. LAIS
ANYTE OF TEGEA-- I. A SHRINE BY THE SEA II. THE GOD OF THE CROSS-ROADS
NOSSIS-- I. ROSES OF CYPRIS II. RINTHO'S GRAVE
LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM-- I. ERINNA II. THE FOUNTAIN HEAD
ARCHIAS-- I. THE HARBOUR GOD II. A GRAVE BY THE SEA
MELEAGER-- I. LOVE'S QUIVER II. THE CUP III. ZENOPHILE IV. LOVE AND DEATH V. LOVE'S MALICE VI. ASCLEPIAS VII. HELIODORA VIII. THE WREATH IX. LIBATION X. THE GRAVE OF HELIODORA XI. HIS EPITAPH
ANTIPATER OF THESSALONICA-- A GRAVE AT OSTIA
UNKNOWN-- THE COUNSEL OF PAN BÉNITIER THE END OF THE COMEDY
Hold fast thine youth, dear soul of mine, new lives will come to birth, And I that shall have passed away be one with the brown earth.
Dying thou shalt lie in nothingness, nor after Love shall abide here nor memory of thee; For thou hast no portion in the roses of Pieria; But even in the nether world obscurely shalt thou wander Flitting hither thither with the phantoms of the dead.
Blest as the Gods are esteem I him who alway Sits face to face with thee and watching thee forgoes not The voice that is music and the smile that is seduction, Smile that my heart knows Fluttered in its chambers. For lo, when I behold thee Forthwith my voice fails, my tongue is tied in silence, Flame of fire goes through me, my ears are full of murmur, Blinded I see naught: Sweat breaketh forth on me, and all my being trembles, Paler am I grown than the pallor of the dry grass, Death seemeth almost to have laid his hand upon me.-- Then I dare all things.