And through mid air their whirring wing
Thy bonny doves did swiftly ply
O’er the dark earth, and thee did bring
Down from the sky.
Right soon they came, and thou, blest Queen,
A smile upon thy face divine,
Didst ask what ail’d me, what might mean
That call of mine.
‘What would’st thou have, with heart on fire,
Sappho?’ thou saidst. ‘Whom pray’st thou me