Songs

Maid of Athens, ere we part,
Give, o give me back my heart.
O, since that has left my breast,
Keep it now and take the rest.
Hear my vow before I go,
Zoi mou, zas agapo. [Zoë, my life, I love you.]

By those tresses unconfin’d,
Woo’d by each Aegean wind;
By those lids whose jetty fringe
Kiss thy soft cheeks’ blooming tinge;
By those wild eyes like the roe,
Zoi mou, zas agapo.

By that lip I long to taste;
By that zone-encircl’d waist;
By all the token-flowers that tell
What words can never speak so well;
By Love’s alternate joy and woe,
Zoi mou, zas agapo.

Maid of Athens, I am gone:
Think of me, sweet! when alone.
Though I fly to Istamboul,
Athens holds me heart and soul:
Can I cease to love thee? No!
Zoi mou, zas agapo.