All other loves are loft in only thine,
Ah youth ungrateful to a flame like mine!
Whom would not all those blooming charms furprize,
Thofe heav'nly looks, and dear deluding eyes?
The harp and bow would you like Phœbus bear,
A brighter Phoebus Phaon might appear;
Would you with ivy wreath your flowing hair, 25
Not Bacchus' felf with Phaon could compare :
Yet Phoebus lov'd, and Bacchus felt the flame,
One Daphne warm'd, and one the Cretan dame;
Nymphs that in verfe no more could rival me,
Than ev'n thofe Gods contend in charms with thee. 30
The muses teach me all their fofteft lays,
And the wide world refounds with Sappho's praise.
Tho' great Alcæus more fublimely fings,
And strikes with bolder rage the founding strings,
No less renown attends the moving lyre,
Which Venus tunes, and all her loves inspire;
To me what nature has in charms deny'd,
Is well by wit's more lafting flames fupply'd.
Tho' fhort my ftature, yet my name extends
To heav'n itself, and earth's remotest ends.
Brown as I am, an Ethiopian dame
Infpir'd young Perfeus with a gen'rous flame
VER. 26. Not Bacchus' felf] Thefe lines were evidently copied in the famous epigram of Lumine Acon dextro, &c. made on Louis de Maguiron, the favourite of Henry the Third of France, and the beautiful Princess of Eboli, who was deprived of the fight of one of her eyes:
Blande pure, lumen quod habes, concede forori
Sic tu cæcus Amor, fic erit illa Venus.
Et variis albæ junguntur fæpe columbæ,
Et niger a viridi turtur amatur ave.
Si, nifi quæ facie poterit te digna videri,
Nulla futura tua eft; nulla futura tua eft,
Tunc te plus folito lafcivia noftra juvabat,
Crebraque mobilitas, aptaque verba joco;
Quique, ubi jam amborum fuerat confufa voluptas,
Plurimus in laffo corpore languor erat.
Nunc tibi Sicelides veniunt nova præda puellæ ;
Quid mihi cum Lefbo? Sicelis effe volo.
At vos erronem tellure remittite noftrum,
Nifiades matres, Nifiadefque nurus,
Neu vos decipiant blanda mendacia linguæ:
Quæ dicit vobis, dixerat ante mihi.
Tu quoque quæ montes celebras, Erycina, Sicanos, (Nam tua fum) vati confule, diva tuæ.
VER. 49. Cantabam,] Sir Carr. Scrope's tranflation of this paffage is nearer the original, and more natural, as well as elegant ; "For they who truly love, remember all."
Turtles and doves of different hues unite,
And gloffy jet is pair'd with fhining white.
If to no charms thou wilt thy heart refign,
But fuch as merit, fuch as equal thine,
By none, alas! by none thou can'st be mov'd,
Phaon alone by Phaon must be lov'd!
Yet once thy Sappho could thy cares employ,
Once in her arms you center'd all your joy:
No time the dear remembrance can remove,
For oh! how vaft a memory has love?
My mufic, then, you could for ever hear,
And all my words were mufic to your ear.
You stopp'd with kiffes my enchanting tongue,
And found my kiffes fweeter than my fong.
In all I pleas'd, but most in what was best;
And the last joy was dearer than the rest.
Then with each word, each glance, each motion fir'd,
You still enjoy'd, and yet you still defir'd,
Till all diffolving in the trance we lay,
And in tumultuous raptures dy'd away.
The fair Sicilians now thy foul inflame ;
Why was I born, ye Gods, a Lesbian dame?
But ah! beware, Sicilian nymphs! nor boast
That wand'ring heart which I fo lately loft;
Nor be with all thofe tempting words abus'd,
Those tempting words were all to Sappho us❜d.
VER. 51. No time, &c.] This is very inferior to the concifenefs and fimplicity of the original, memini (meminerunt omnia amantes).
An gravis inceptum peragit fortuna tenorem ?
Et manet in curfu femper acerba fuo?
Sex mihi natales ierant, cum lecta parentis
Ante diem lacrymas offa bibere meas.
Arfit inops frater, victus meretricis amore;
Miftaque cum turpi damna pudore tulit,
Factus inops agili peragit freta cœrula remo:
Quafque male amifit, nunc male quærit opes:
Me quoque, quod monui bene multa fideliter, odit.
Hoc mihi libertas, hoc pia lingua dedit.
Et tanquam defint, quæ me fine fine fatigent,
Accumulat curas filia parva meas.
Ultima tu noftris accedis caufa querelis :
Non agitur vento noftra carina fuo.
Ecce, jacent collo fparfi fine lege capilli;
Nec premit articulos lucida gemma meos.
Veste tegor vili: nullum eft in crinibus aurum :
Non Arabo nofter rore capillus olet.
Cui colar infelix? aut cui placuiffe laborem?
Ille mihi cultus unicus auctor abeft,
Molle meum levibus cor eft violabile telis;
Et femper caufa eft, cur ego femper amem,
Sive ita nafcenti legem dixere forores,
Nec data funt vitæ fila fevera meæ ;
Sive abeunt ftudia in mores, artefque magiftræ,
Ingenium nobis molle Thalia facit.
Quid mirum, fi me primæ lanuginis ætas
Abftulit, atque anni, quos vir amare poteft?
you that rule Sicilia's happy plains, Have pity, Venus, on your Poet's pains! Shall fortune ftill in one fad tenor run, And still increase the woes fo foon begun? Inur'd to forrow from my tender years,
My parent's ashes drank my early tears;
My brother next, neglecting wealth and fame,
Ignobly burn'd in a destructive flame:
An infant daughter late my griefs increas'd,
And all a mother's cares distract my breast,
Alas! what more could fate itself impose,
But thee, the last and greatest of my woes?
No more my robes in waving purple flow,
Nor on my hand the sparkling diʼmonds glow;
No more my locks in ringlets curl'd diffufe
The costly sweetness of Arabian dews,
Nor braids of gold the varied treffes bind,
That fly disordered with the wanton wind:
For whom should Sappho ufe fuch arts as these?
He's gone, whom only fhe defir'd to please!
Cupid's light darts my tender bofom move,
Still is there cause for Sappho still to love:
So from my birth the Sifters fix'd my doom,
And gave to Venus all my life to come;
Or, while my Mufe in melting notes complains,
My yielding heart keeps measure to my trains.
By charms like thine which all my foul have won,
Who might not-ah! who would not be undone?
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