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Then frantic rife, and like fome Fury rove
Thro' lonely plains, and thro' the filent
As if the filent grove, and lonely plains,
That knew my pleasures, could relieve my pains.
I view the Grotto, once the scene of love,
The rocks around, the hanging roofs above,
'That charm'd me more, with native mofs o'er grown,
Than Phrygian marble, or the Parian stone.
I find the fhades that veil'd our joys before;
But, Phaon gone, those shades delight no more.
Here the prefs'd herbs with bending tops betray
Where oft entwin'd in am'rous folds we lay;
I kiss that earth which once was press'd by you,
And all with tears the with'ring herbs bedew.
For thee the fading trees appear to mourn,
And birds defer their fongs till thy return:
Night fhades the groves, and all in filence lie,
All but the mournful Philomel and I:
With mournful Philomel I join my strain,
Of Tereus fhe, of Phaon I complain.




A spring there is, whofe filver waters show, Clear as a glafs, the fhining fands below: A flow'ry Lotos fpreads its arms above, Shades all the banks, and feems itself a grove; Eternal greens the moffy margin grace, Watch'd by the fylvan Genius of the place. Here as I lay, and swell'd with tears the flood, 185 Before my fight a wat'ry Virgin ftood:

Conftitit, et dixit, "Quoniam non ignibus aequis

"Ureris, Ambracias terra petenda tibi.

"Phoebus ab excelfo, quantum patet, afpicit aequor:


Actiacum populi Leucadiumque vocant.

"Hinc fe Deucalion Pyrrhae fuccenfus amore "Mifit, et illaefo corpore preffit aquas.


"Nec mora: versus Amor tetigit lentissima Pyrrhae "Pectora; Deucalion igne levatus erat.

"Hanc legem locus ille tenet, pete protinus altam
"Leucada; nec faxo defiluisse time.”

Ut monuit, cum voce abiit, Ego frigida furgo: 200
Nec gravidae lacrymas continuere genae.
Ibimus, o Nymphae, monftrataque faxa petemus.
Sit procul infano victus amore timor.

Quicquid erit, melius quam nunc erit: aura, fubito.
Et mea non magnum corpora pondus habent.
Tu quoque mollis Amor, pennas fuppone cadenti:
Ne fim Leucadiae mortua crimen aquae.
Inde chelyn Phoebo communia munera ponam:
Et fub ea verfus unus et alter erunt.



She flood and cry'd, "O you that love in vain!




Fly hence, and feek the fair Leucadian main. "There ftands a rock, from whofe impending steep Apollo's fane furveys the rolling deep; "There injur'd lovers leaping from above, "Their flames extinguish and forget to love. "Deucalion once with hopeless fury burn'd, "In vain he lov'd, relentless Pyrrha fcorn'd; "But when from hence he plung'd into the main, "Deucalion fcorn'd, and Pyrrha lov'd in vain. 196 "Hafte, Sappho, hafte, from high Leucadia throw "Thy wretched weight, nor dread the deeps below!" She spoke, and vanish'd with the voice-I rife, And filent tears fall trickling from my eyes. I go, ye Nymphs! thofe rocks and feas to prove; How much I fear, but ah, how much I love! I go, ye Nymphs, where furious love infpires;

Let female fears submit to female fires.
To rocks and feas I fly from Phaon's hate,
And hope from feas and rocks a milder fate.
Ye gentle gales, beneath my body blow,
And foftly lay me on the waves below!



And thou, kind Love, my finking limbs sustain
Spread thy foft wings, and waft me o'er the main,
Nor let a lover's death the guiltless flood profane!
On Phœbus' fhrine my harp I'll then bestow,
And this Infcription shall be plac'd below.

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"Grata lyram pofui tibi, Phoebe, poëtria Sappho: "Convenit illa mihi, convenit illa tibi.”

Cur tamen Actiacas miferam me mittis ad oras,
Cum profugum poffis ipfe referre pedem ?
Tu mihi Leucadia potes effe falubrior unda:

Et forma et meritis tu mihi Phoebus eris.
An potes, o fcopulis undaque ferocior illa,

Si moriar, titulum mortis habere meae ? At quanto melius jungi mea pectora tecum,

Quam poterant faxis praecipitanda dari! Haec funt illa, Phaon, quae tu laudare folebas; Vifaque funt toties ingeniofa tibi.



Nunc vellem facunda forent: dolor artibus obftat
Ingeniumque meis fubftitit omne malis.


Non mihi refpondent veteres in carmina vires. 230
Plectra dolore tacent: muta dolore lyra eft.
Lefbides aequoreae, nupturaque nuptaque proles;
Lefbides, Aeolia nomina dicta lyra;

Lesbides, infamem quae me feciftis amatae;
Definite ad citharas turba venire meas.
Abftulit omne Phaon, quod vobis ante placebat. 235
(Me miferam dixi quam modo pene, meus!)
Efficite ut redeat: vates quoque veftra redibit.
Ingenio vires ille dat, ille rapit.


"Here fhe who fung, to him that did inspire,

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"What fuits with Sappho, Phoebus, fuits with thee; "The Gift, the giver, and the God agree."

But why, alas, relentless youth, aḥ why

To diftant feas muft tender Sappho fly ?

Thy charms than thofe may far more pow'rful be,
And Phoebus' felf is lefs a God to me.
Ah! can't thou doom me to the rocks and fea,
O far more faithlefs and more hard than they?
Ah! canft thou rather fee this tender breast
Daih'd on these rocks than to thy bofom preft; 225
This breaft which once, in vain! you lik'd fo well;
Where the Loves play'd, and where the Mufes dwell.
Alas! the Mufes now no more inspire,
Untun'd my lute, and filent is my lyre;
My languid numbers have forgot to flow,
And fancy finks beneath a weight of woe.
Ye Lesbian virgins, and ye Lesbian dames,
Themes of my verfe, and objects of my flames,
No more your groves with my glad fongs fhall ring,
No more thefe hands fhall touch the trembling ftring:
My Phaon's fled, and I those arts refign

(Wretch that I am, to call that Phaon mine!)
Return, fair youth, return, and bring along
Joy to my foul, and vigour to my fong:
Abfent from thee, the Poet's flame expires;
But ah! how fiercely burn the Lover's fires?




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