For thofe Aurora Cephalus might fcorn,
And with fresh blushes paint the conscious morn.
For thofe might Cynthia lengthen Phaon's fleep,
And bid Endymion nightly tend his theep.
Venus for thofe had rapt thee to the skies,
But Mars on thee might look with Venus' eyes.
O fcarce a youth, yet scarce a tender boy!
O useful time for lovers to employ !
Pride of thy age, and glory of thy race,
Come to these arms, and melt in this embrace!
The vows you never will return, receive;
And take, at least, the love you will not give.
See, while I write, my words are loft in tears!
The lefs my fenfe, the more my love appears.
Sure 'twas not much to bid one kind adieu,
(At leaft to feign was never hard to you:)
Farewell, my Lesbian love, you might have faid;
Or coldly thus, Farewell, oh Lesbian maid!
No tear did you, no parting kits receive,
Nor knew I then how much I was to grieve.
No lover's gift your Sappho could confer,
And wrongs and wees were all you left with her.
Hunc ne pro Cephalo raperes, Aurora, timebam:
Et faceres; fed te prima rapina tenet.
Hunc fi confpiciat quæ confpicit omnia, Phœbe;
Juffus erit fomnos continuare Phaon.
Hunc Venus in coelum curru vexiffet eburno;
Sed videt et Marti poffe placere fuo.
O nec adhuc juvenis, nec jam puer! utilis ætas!
O decus, atque ævi gloria magna tui!
Huc ades, inque finus, forinofe, relabere noftros:
Non ut ames cro, verum ut amare finas.
Scribimus, et lacrymis oculi rorantur obortis :
Afpice, quam fit in hoc multa litura loco.
Si tam certus eras hinc ire, modeftius iffes,
Et modo dixiffes, Lefbi puella, vale.
Non tecum lacrymas, non ofcula fumma tulisti;
Denique non timui, quod delitura fui.
Nil de te mecum eft, nifi tantum injuria: nec tu,
Admoneat quod te, pignus amantis habes.
No charge I gave you, and no charge could give,
But this, Be mindful of our loves, and live.
Now by the Nine, thofe powers ador'd by me,
And Love, the god that ever waits on thee,
When first I heard (from whom I hardly knew)
That you were fled, and all my joys with you,
Like fome fad ftatue, fpeechlefs, pale I stood,
Grief chill'd my breaft, and stopt my freezing blood;
No figh to rife, no tear had pow'r to flow,
Fix'd in a stupid lethargy of woe:
But when its way th' impetuous paffion found,
I rend my treffes, and my breast I wound;
I rave, then weep; I curfe, and then complain;
Now fwell to rage, now melt in tears again.
Not fiercer pangs diftract the mournful dame,
Whofe first-born infant feeds the funeral flame.
My fcornful brother with a smile appears,
Infults my woes, and triumphs in my tears;
His hated image ever haunts my eyes;
And why this grief? thy daughter lives, he cries.
Stung with my love, and furious with despair,
All torn my garments, and my bofom bare,
Non mandata dedi; neque enim mandata dedissem
Ulla, nifi ut nolles immemor effe mei.
Per tibi, qui nunquam longe difcedat; Amorem,
Perque Novem juro, numina noftra, Deas;
Cum mihi nefcio quis, fugiunt tua gaudia, dixit:
Nec me flere diu, nec potuiffe loqui;
Et lacrymæ deerant oculis, et lingua palato:
Aftrictum gelido frigore pectus erat.
Poftquam fe dolor invenit; nec pectora plangi,
Nec puduit fciffis exululare comis.
Non aliter quam fi nati pia mater adempti
Portet ad extructos corpus inane rogos.
Gaudet, et e noftro crefcit moerore Charaxus
Frater; et ante oculos itque reditque meos.
Utque pudenda mei videatur caufa doloris;
Quid dolet hæc? certe filia vivit, ait.
Non veniunt in idem pudor atque amor: omne videbat Vulgus; eram lacero pectus aperta finu.
My woes, thy crimes, I to the world proclaim;
Such inconfiftent things are love and fhame!
'Tis thou art all my care and my delight,
My daily longing, and my dream by night:
Oh night more pleasing than the brightest day,
When fancy gives what abfence takes away;
And, drefs'd in all its vifionary charms,
Reftores my fair deferter to my arms!
Then round your neck in wanton wreaths I twine
Then you, methinks, as fondly circle mine:
A thousand tender words I hear and speak;
A thousand melting kifles give and take:
Then fiercer joys I blush to mention these,
Yet, while I blufh, confefs how much they pleafe.
But wher, with day, the fweet delufions fly,
And all things wake to life and joy but I,
As if once more forfaken, I complain,
And close my eyes to dream of you again :
Then frantic rife, and like fome fury rove
Thro' lonely plains, and thro' the filent grove,
As if the filent grove and lonely plains,
That knew my pleasures, could relieve my pains.
Tu mihi cura, Phaon; te fomnia nostra reducunt;
Somnia formofo candidiora die.
Illic te invenio, quanquam regionibus abfis;
Sed non longa fatis gaudia fomnus habet.
Sæpe tuos noftra cervice onerare laceitos,
Sæpe tuæ vdieor fuppofuiffe meos.
Blandior interdum, verifque fimillima verba
Eloquor; et vigilant fenfibus ora meis.
Ofcula cognofco, quæ tu committere linguæ,
Aptaque confueras accipere, apta dare.
Ulteriora pudet narrare; fed omnia fiunt.
Et juvat, et fine te non libet esse mihi.
At cum fe Titan oftendit, et omnia fecum;
Tam cito me fomnos deftituiffe queror.
Impulit, in collo crine jacente feror.
Illuc mentis inops, ut quam furialis Erichtho
Antra nemufque pefo, tanquam nemus antraque proConfcia deliciis illa fuere tuis.
I view the grotto, once the fceae of love,
The rocks around, the hanging roofs above,
That charm'd me more, with native mofs o'ergrown,
Than Phrygiaa marble, or the Parian stone.
I find the fhades that veil'd our joys before;
But, Phaon gone, thefe fhades delight no more.
Here the prefs'd herbs with bending tops betray
Where oft entwin'd in am'rous folds we lay:
I kifs that earth which once was prefs'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 coinplain.
A fpring there is, whofe filver waters show,
Clear as a glafs, the fhining fands below:
A flow'ry lotos spreads its arms above,
Shades all the banks, and feems itself a grove;
Antra vident oculi fcabro pendentia topho,
Quæ mihi Mygdonii marmoris instar erant.
Invenio fylvam, quæ fæpe cubilia nobis
Præbuit, et multa texit opaca coma.
At non invenio dominum fylvæque, meumque.
Vile folum locus eft: dos erat ille loci.
Agnovi preffas noti mihi cefpitis herbas :
De noftro curvum pondere gramen erat.
Incubui, tetigique locum qua parte fuisti;
Grata prius lacrymas combibit herba meas.
Quinetiam rami pofitis lagere videntur
Frondibus; et nullæ dulce queruntur aves.
Sola virum non ulta pie moeftiffima mater
Concinit Ilmarium Daulias ales Ityn.
Ales Ityn, Sappho defertos cantat amores:
Hactenus, ut media cætera nocte filent.
Eft nitidus, vitroque magis perlucidus omni,
Fons facer; hunc multi numen habere putant.
Quem fupra ramos expandit aquatica lotos,
Una nemus; tenero cefpite terra viret.
Eternal greens the moffy margin grace,
Watch'd by the fylvan genius of the place.
Here as I lay, and fwell'd with tears the flood,
Before my fight a wat'iy Virgin ftood:
She flood and cry'd, "O you that love in vain! "Fly hence, and feek the fair Leucadian main: "There stands a rock, from whofe impending steep, "Apollo's fane furveys the rolling deep; "There injur'd lovers, leaping from above, "Their flames extinguith, and forget to love. "Deucalion once with hopeless fury burn'd, "In vain he lov'd, relentlets Pyrrha fcorn'd: "But when from hence he plung'd into the main, "Deucalion fcorn'd, and Pyrrha lov'd in vain. "Hafte, Sappho, hafte, from high Leucadia throw "Thy wretched weight, nor dread the deeps below!" She fpoke, 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 fubmit to female fires.
To rocks and feas I fly from Phaon's hate,
And hope from feas and rocks a milder fate.
Hic ego cum laíios pofuiffem fletibus artus,
Conftitit ante oculos Naïas una meos;
Conftitit, et dixit, "Quoniam non ignibus æquis
"Ureris, Ambracias terra petenda tibi.
"Phœbus ab excelfo, quantuin patet, afpicit æquor: "Actiacum populi Leucadiumque vocant. "Hinc fe Deucalion Pyrrhæ fuccenfus amore "Mifit, et illefo corpore preffit aquas.
"Nec mora: verfus amor tetigit lentiflima Pyrrhæ "Pectora; Deucalion igne levatus erat. "Hanc legem locus ille tenet, pete protinus altam "Leucada; nec faxo deiiluiffe time."
Ut monuit, cum voce abiit. Ego frigida furgo: 200
Nec gravida lacrymas continuere genæ.
Ibimus, O nymphæ, monftrataque faxa petemus.
Sit procul infano victus amore timor.
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