To Erinna
Sara Teasdale
1884 to 1933
Was Time not harsh to you, or was he kind,
O pale Erinna of the perfect lyre,
That he has left no word of singing fire
Whereby you waked the dreaming Lesbian wind,
And kindled night along the darkened shore?
O girl whose lips Erato stooped to kiss,
Do you go sorrowing because of this
In fields where poets sing forevermore?
Or are you glad, and is it best to be
A silent music men have never heard,
A dream in all our hearts that we may say:
"Her voice had all the rapture of the sea,
And all the clear cool quiver of a bird
Deep in a forest at the break of day"?
Sara Teasdale's To Erinna
I am busy working to bring Sara Teasdale's "To Erinna" to life through some unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you later.
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