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Updated: May 28, 2025
Ye will pass calm and stormy-sweet and bitter hours there. So long as thou wert a child, Sappho, thy life passed on like a cloudless spring morning, but when thou becam'st a maiden, and hadst learnt to love, thine heart was opened to admit pain; and during the long months of separation pain was a frequent guest there. This guest will seek admission as long as life lasts.
By what stormy-sweet process the fountain of this light had been unsealed no one ever knew but themselves. She did not move when Malcolm entered more than just to bring the palms of her hands together and look up in his face. "Have you told him all, Florimel?" he asked. "Yes, Malcolm," she answered. "Tell him again yourself." "No, Florimel: once is enough."
Ye will pass calm and stormy-sweet and bitter hours there. So long as thou wert a child, Sappho, thy life passed on like a cloudless spring morning, but when thou becam'st a maiden, and hadst learnt to love, thine heart was opened to admit pain; and during the long months of separation pain was a frequent guest there. This guest will seek admission as long as life lasts.
Ye will pass calm and stormy-sweet and bitter hours there. So long as thou wert a child, Sappho, thy life passed on like a cloudless spring morning, but when thou becam'st a maiden, and hadst learnt to love, thine heart was opened to admit pain; and during the long months of separation pain was a frequent guest there. This guest will seek admission as long as life lasts.
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