The Garland Bearer

Bring Summer flowers, bring pansy, violet,
Moss-rose and sweet-briar and pale columbine;
Bring loveliest leaves, rathe privet, eglantine,
And myrtles with the dew of morning wet:
Twine thy a wreath upon thy brows to set;
With thy soft hands the wayward tendrils twine;
Then lay them lightly on those curls of thine,
Sweet is the breath of blossoms, and the Graces,
When suppliants through Love’s temple wend
their way,
Look down with smiles from their celestial places
On maidens wreathed with chaplets of the May;
But from the crownless choir they turn their faces,
Nor heed them when they sing nor when they
pray.

~ J.A. Symonds
1884
The Garland-Bearer (After Sappho)