Classic Poem

The group that late in garb of Greeks
Sung their light chorus o'er the tide —
Forms, such as up the wooded creeks
Of Helle's shore at noon-day glide,
Or nightly on her glistening sea,
Woo the bright waves with melody —
Now linked their triple league again
Of voices sweet, and sung a strain,
Such as, had Sappho's tuneful ear
But caught it, on the fatal steep,
She would have paused, entranced, to hear,
And for that day deferred her leap.