When my dear maidens lie


Ὄτα πάννυχος ἄσφι κατάγρει·

WHEN my dear maidens lie 
   Each on her bed, 
When all night long sleep holds 
Their eyes, and softly folds 
Their busy hands that ply 
   The wheel, or spread 
The linen on the grass, 
While hours of sunshine pass : 

Thus when they lie and dream 
   Of happy things, 
The golden age reburns ; 
When youth to slumber turns 
Beneath the Cynthian beam 
   Again it brings 
To life such bliss and glow 
As vanished long ago. 

Ah, once to lie awake 
  Seemed sweet to me ! 
Now I who even have prayed 
That night might be delayed, 
Yea, doubled for my sake, 
  Sigh wearily, 
Watching my maids, where they 
Together breathe till day.