REMEMBRANCE: GREEK FOLK-SONG

Not unto the forest—not unto the forest, O my lover! Why do you lead me to the forest? Joy is where the temples are, lines of dancers swinging far, Drums and lyres and viols in the town (It is dark in the forest) And the flapping leaves will blind me and the clinging vines will bind me And the thorny rose-boughs tear my saffron gown— And I fear the forest. Not unto the forest—not unto the forest, O my lover! There was one once who led me to the forest: Hand in hand we wandered mute, where was neither lyre nor flute, Little stars were bright against the dusk (There was wind in the forest) And the thicket of wild rose breathed across our lips locked close Dizzy perfumings of spikenard and musk.... I am tired of the forest. Not unto the forest—not unto the forest, O my lover! Take me from the silence of the forest! I will love you by the light and the beat of drums at night And echoing of laughter in my ears, But here in the forest I am still, remembering a forgotten, useless thing, And my eyelids are locked down for fear of tears— There is memory in the forest.