Soft fcenes of folitude no more can please;
Love enters there, and I'm my own disease.
No more the Lesbian dames my paffions move,
Once the dear objects of my guilty love;
All other loves are loft in only thine,

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Oh youth, ungrateful to a flaine like mine!
Whom would not all those blooming charms furprise,
Thofe heav'nly looks, and dear deluding eyes?
The harp and bow would you like Phoebus bear,
A brighter Phoebus Phaon might appear;
Would you with ivy wreath your flowing hair,
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 verse no more could rival me,
Than ev❜n thofe gods contend in charms with thee.
The Mufes teach me all their fofteft lays,
And the wide world refounds with Sappho's praife.
Though great Alcæus more fublimely fings,
And ftrikes with bolder rage the founding ftrings,
No lefs renown attends the moving lyre,
Which Venus tunes, and all her loves inspire.

Nec me Pyrrhiades Methymniadefve puellæ,
Nec me Lefbiadum cætera turba juvant.
Vilis Anactorie, vilis mihi candida Cydno:
Non oculis grata eft Atthis, ut ante, meis;
Atque aliæ centum, quas non fine crimine amavi:
Improbe, multarum quod fuit, unus habes.
Eft in te facies, funt apti lufibus anni.

O facies oculis infidiofa meis!

Sume fidem et pharetram; fies manifeftus Apollo:
Accedant capiti cornua; Bacchus eris,

Et Phoebus Daphnen, et Gnofida Bacchus amavit;
Nec norat lyricos illa, vel illa modos.

At mihi Pegafides blandiffima carmina dictant;
Jam canitur toto nomen in orbe meum.
Nec plus Alcæus, confors patriæque lyræque,
Laudis habet, quamvis grandius ille fonet.

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To me what Nature has in charms deny'd,
Is well by wit's more lafting flames fupply'd:
Though fhort my ftature, yet my name extends
To heav'n itself, and earth's remoteft ends.
Brown as I am, an Ethiopian dame
Infpir'd young Perfeus with a gen'rous flame.
Turtles and doves of diff'rent 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't 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 vast a memory has love!
My mufic, then, you could for ever hear,
And all my words were mufic to your ear.
You ftopp'd with kiffes my enchanting tongue,
And found my kiffes fweeter than my fong.
In all I pleas'd, but most in what was beft;
And the last joy was dearer than the rest.

Si mihi difficilis formam natura negavit;
Ingenio formæ damna rependo mex.

Sum brevis; at nomen, quod terras impleat omnes,
Eft mihi; menfuram nominis ipfa fero.
Candida fi non fum, placuit Cepheïa Perfeo
Andromede, patriæ fufca colore fuæ:

Et variis albe junguntur fæpe columbæ,
Et niger a viridi turtur amatur ave.

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Si, nifi quæ facie poterit te digna videri,
Nulla futura tua eft; nulla futura tua eft.

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At me cum legeres, etiam formofa videbar;
Unam jurabas ufque decere loqui.

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Cantabam, memini (meminerunt omnia amantes)
Ofcula cantanti tu mihi rapta dabas.

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Hæc quoque laudabas; omnique a parte placebam, Sed tum præcipue, cum fit amoris opus.

Soft fcenes of folitude no more can please;
Love enters there, and I'm my own disease.
No more the Lesbian dames my paffions move,
Once the dear objects of my guilty love;
All other loves are loft in only thine,

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25

Oh youth, ungrateful to a flaine like mine!
Whom would not all thofe blooming charms furprise,
Those 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,
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 verse no more could rival me,
Than ev'n those gods contend in charms with thee.
The Mufes teach me all their fofteft lays,
And the wide world refounds with Sappho's praife.
Though great Alcæus more fublimely fings,
And ftrikes with bolder rage the founding ftrings,
No lefs renown attends the moving lyre,
Which Venus tunes, and all her loves infpire.

Nec me Pyrrhiades Methymniadefve puellæ,
Nec me Lefbiadum cætera turba juvant.
Vilis Anactorie, vilis mihi candida Cydno:
Non oculis grata eft Atthis, ut ante, meis;
Atque alia centum, quas non fine crimine amavi:
Improbe, multarum quod fuit, unus habes.

Eft in te facies, funt apti lufibus anni.

O facies oculis infidiofa meis!

Sume fidem et pharetram; fies manifeftus Apollo:
Accedant capiti cornua; Bacchus eris,

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Et Phoebus Daphnen, et Gnofida Bacchus amavit;
Nec norat lyricos illa, vel illa modos.

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At mihi Pegafides blandiffima carmina dictant;
Jam canitur toto nomen in orbe meum.
Nec plus Alcæus, confors patriæque lyræque,
Laudis habet, quamvis grandius ille fonet.

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An infant daughter late my griefs increas'd,
And all a mother's cares diftract my breast.
Alas! what more could Fate itself impose,
But thee, the laft, and greatest of my woes?
No more my robes in waving purple flow,
Nor on my hand the sparkling di monds glow;
No more my locks in ringlets curl'd diffuie
The coftly fweetne's of Arabian dews,
Nor braids of gold the varied treffes bind,
That fly diforder'd with the wanton wind:
For whom should Sappho use such arts as these?
He's gone, whom only fhe defir'd to please!
Cupid's light darts my tender bofom move,
Still is there caufe for Sappho ftill 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 ftrains.
By charms like thine which all my foul have won, 95
Who might not-ah! who would not be undone?

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.
Vefte 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.

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Molle meum levibus cor eft violabile telis ;
Et femper caufa eft, cur ego femper amem.

Sive ita nafcenti legem dixere Sorores,

Nec data funt vitæ fila fevera meæ ;
Sive abeunt ftudia in mores, artefque magiftræ,
Ingenium nobis molle Thalia facit.
Quid mirum, fi me prime lanuginis ætas

Abftulit, atque anni, quos vir amare poteft?

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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 fheep.
Venus for thofe had rapt thee to the fkies,
But Mars on thee might look with Venus' eyes.
O fcarce a youth, yet fcarce 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 Lefbian love, you might have said;
Or coldly thus, Farewell, oh Lesbian maid!
No tear did you, no parting kifs receive,
Nor knew I then how much I was to grieve.
No lover's gift your Sappho could confer,
And wrongs and woes were all you left with her.

Hunc ne pro Cephalo raperes, Aurora, timebam:
Et faceres; fed te prima rapina tenet.
Hunc fi confpiciat que 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, formofe, relabere noftros:
Non ut ames oro, verum ut amare finas.
Scribimus, et lacrymis oculi rorantur obortis :
Afpice, quam fit in hoc multa litura loco.
Si tam certus eras hinc ire, mcdeftius iffes,
Et modo dixiffes, Lefbi puella, vale.
Non tecum lacrymas, non ofcula fumma tulisti;
Denique non timui, quod dolitura fui.

Nil de te mecum eft, nifi tantum injuria: nec tu,
Admoneat quod te, pignus amantis habes,

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