He went on slowly:
“I’ve come to share my strength...it’s a poor strength, drunk, blind, but it does go on. You, my dear, are blinded by grief. Let me tell you your grief can’t be as bad as mine. Or, if it is, let’s share...share...we’ve shared before...I’ll take your dark away...hide it in mine...lose some of your burden at least.
“Sappho, let me help.
“Accept the old book, find hope in it... I have kicked aside death on the field...look at my eyes and then look at yours...you need no mirror.
“He’s dead...dead by the sea...you have your love of beauty to uphold you. Let it live! Give it new life! Soon enough death will claim both of us, but, till then, let’s find comradeship...come to my house tomorrow, read to me...
“Will you?”
I nodded, then remembered he could not see and remembered his gift and his grace and knelt by him and put my head in his hands and pressed between his knees, as he patted me, chuckling a little.
“I’ll come tomorrow, Alcaeus,” I promised.
“Good.”
“I know your lot is worse than mine... I must find courage.”