SAPH O

то

PHAON.

From OVID.

D 3

SAPHO

ΤΟ

PHAON.

SAY, lovely youth, that do'ft my heart command,

Must then her Name the wretched writer prove,
To thy remembrance loft, as to thy love?
Afk not the cause that I new numbers chufe,
The Lute neglected, and the Lyric muse;
Love taught my tears in fadder notes to flow,
And tun'd my heart to Elegies of woe.

SAPHO PHAON I.

CQUID ubi afpe&ta eft ftudiofe littera dextra,
Protinus eft oculis cognita noftra tuis?

An, nifi legiffes autoris nomina Saphus,
Hoc breve nefcires unde movetur opus?
Forfitan & quare mea fint alterna requiras
Carmina, cum lyricis fim magis apta modis.
Flendus amor meus eft: elegeia flebile carmen;
Non facit ad lacrymas barbitos ulla meas.

D 4

5

I

I burn, I burn, as when thro' ripen'd corn
By driving winds the spreading flames are born!
Phaon to Etna's fcorching fields retires,

While I confume with more than Etna's fires!
No more my foul a charm in mufic finds,
Mufic has charms alone for peaceful minds.
Soft fcenes of folitude no more can please,
Love enters there, and I'm my own disease.
No more the Lesbian dames my paffion move,
Once the dear objects of my guilty love;
All other loves are loft in only thine,

Ah youth ungrateful to a flame like mine!

10

15

20

Whom would not all those blooming charms furprize, Those heav'nly looks, and dear, deluding eyes?

Uror, ut, indomitis ignem exercentibus euris,
Fertilis accenfis mefibus ardet ager.
Arva Phaon celebrat diverfa Typhoidos Etna,
Me calor Etneo non minor igne tenet.
Nec mihi, difpofitis quæ jungam carmina nervis,
Proveniunt; vacua carmina mentis opus.
Nec me Pierides fubeunt, Dryadefve puellæ,
Nec me Lefbiadum cætera turba juvant.
Vilis Amythone, vilis mihi candida Cydno:
Non oculis grata eft Atthis, ut ante, meis;
Atque alia centum, quas hic fine crimine amavi:
Improbe, multarum quod fuit, unus habes.
Eft in te facies, funt apti lufibus anni,
O facies oculis infidiofa meis!