The poem voices the ancient Greek poet Sappho as she says goodbye to a treasured natural world. She remembers falling asleep in the cedar shade, lulled by nightingales, with warm breezes and the hum of insects around her. Everything felt alive and charged with sweetness. Now she tells the clear rivers and hidden grottoes that she will never return; the water won’t embrace her again, nor will weeds tangle in her drifting hair. The mood is deeply nostalgic and sorrowful, yet the language stays lush and almost dreamlike, as if she wants to hold onto these sensations even as she leaves them. By closing with Venus weeping in her crystal cave at the sight of a brighter goddess, the poem hints that this place was so beautiful it could stir envy in a god — and that Sappho’s departure is a kind of divine loss. It feels like a final, intimate farewell to a paradise that shaped her.
Sonnet XXIX: Farewell, Ye Tow'ring Cedars — Summary
Farewell, ye tow'ring Cedars, in whose shade, Lull'd by the Nightingale, I sunk to rest, While spicy breezes hover'd o'er my breast To fan my cheek, in deep'ning tints array'd; While am'rous insects, humming round me, play'd, Each flow'r forsook, of prouder sweets in quest; Of glowing lips, in humid fragrance drest, That mock'd the Sunny Hybla's vaunted aid! Farewell, ye limpid rivers! Oh! farewell! No more shall Sappho to your grots repair; No more your white waves to her bosom swell, Or your dank weeds, entwine her floating hair; As erst, when Venus in her sparry cell Wept, to behold a brighter goddess there!