My brother next, neglecting wealth and fame, 75
Ignobly burn'd in a destructive flame :
An infant daughter late my griefs increasid,
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?

80 No more my robes in waving purple flow,

hand the sparkling diamonds glow;
No more my locks in ringlets curl'd diffuse
The costly sweetness of Arabian dews,
Nor braids of gold the varied tresses bind,
That fly disorder'd with the wanton wind :
For whom should Sappho use such arts as these ?
gone, whom only she desir'd to please !

Cupid's

Nor

on my

85

He's

75

Factus inops agili peragit freta coerula remo:

Quasque male amisit, nunc male quaerit opes :
Me

quoque, quod monui bene multa fideliter, odit,
Hoc mihi libertas, hoc pia lingua dedit.
Et tanquam desint, quae me sine fine fatigent,
Accumulat curas filia parva meas.

80 Ultima tu nostris accedis causa querelis :

Non agitur vento nostra carina suo.
Ecce jacent collo sparsi fine lege capilli;

Nec premit articulos lucida gemma meos.
Veste tegor yili : nullum est in crinibus aurum :

85
Non Arabo nofter rore capillus olet.
Cui colar infelix? aut cui placuisse laborem?

Ille mihi cultus unicus auctor abest

90

Cupid's light darts my tender bosom move,
Still is there cause for Sappho still to love :
So from my birth the Sisters 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 strains.
By charms like thine which all my soul have wen, 95
Who might not--ah! who would not be undone?
For those Aurora Cephalus might scorn,
And with fresh blushes paint the conscious morn.
For those might Cynthia lengthen Phaon's sleep,
And bid Endymion nightly tend-his-sheep.
Venus for those had rapt thee to the skies,
But Mars on thee might look with Venus' eyes.

O fcarce

90

95

Molle meum levibus cor eft violabile telis ;

Et semper causa est, cur ego femper amem.
Sive ita nascenti-legem dixere forores,

Nec data funt vitae fila severa meae ;
Sive abeunt studia in mores, artesque magiftrae,

Ingenium nobis molle Thalia facit.
Quid mirum, fi me primae lanuginis aetas

Abstulit, atque anni, quos vir amare poteft?
Hunc ne pro Cephalo raperes, Aurora, timebam:

Et faceres; fed te prima rapina tenet.
Hunc fi confpiciat, quae confpicit omnia, Phoebe;

Jussus erit fomnos continuare Phaon;"
Hunc Venus in coelum curru vexisset 'eburno;

Sed videt et Marti pofse placere suo,

100

105

Oscarce a youth, yet scarce a tender boy!

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 leaft the love you will not give.
See, while I write, my words are loft in tears!
The less my sense, the more my love appears.
Sure 'twas not much to bid one kind adieu;
(At least to feign was never hard to you!)
Farewell, my Lesbian love, you might have said;
Or coldly thus, Farewell, oh Lesbian maid !
No tear did you, no parting kiss 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.

O nec adhuc juvenis, nec jam puer! utilis aetas!

O decus, atque aevi gloria magna tui ! Huc ades, inque finus, formofe, relabere noftros: 105

Non ut ames oro, verum ut amare finas. Scribimus, et lacrymis oculi rorantur abortis :

Afpice, quam fit in hoc multa litora loco.
Si tam certus eras hinc-ire, modeftius iffes,

Et modo dixiffes : Lesbi puella, vale.
Non tecum lacrymas, non oscula fumma tulifti;

Denique non timui, quod dolitura fui.
Nil de te mecum eft, nifi tantum injuria: pec tu,

Admoneat quod te, pignus amantis-habes."

* 110

I20

No charge I gave you, and no charge could give,
But this, Be mindful of our loves, and live.
Now by the Nine, those 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 some fad ftatue, speechless, pale I stood, 125
Grief chill'd my breast, and stopp'd my freezing blood;
No figh to rise, no tear had power to flow,
Fix'd in a stupid lethargy of woe :
But when its way th' impetuous passion found,
I rend my tresses, and my breast I wound; 130
I rave, then

weep; I curse, and then complain ;
Now fwell to rage, now melt in tears again.
Not fiercer

pangs

distract the mournful dame, Whose first-born infant feeds the funeral flame.

My

I 20

Non mandata dedi ; neque enim mandata dedissem

Ulla, nisi ut nolles immemor esse mei.
Per tibi, qui nunquam longe difcedat, Amorem,

Perque novem juro, numina nostra, Deas;
Cum mihi nescio quis, Fugiunt tua gaudia, dixit:

Nec me flere diu, nec potuisse loqui :
Et lacrymae deerant oculis, et lingua palato:

Aftrictum gelido frigore pectus erat.
Poftquam fe dolor invenit; nec pectora plangi,

Nec puduit scisfis exululare comis : Non aliter quam si nati pia mater adempti

Portet ad extructos corpus inane rogos,

My scornful brother with a smile appears,

135 Insults 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 bosom bare,

140 My woes, thy crimes, I to the world proclaim; Such inconsistent things are love and shame! 'Tis thou art all my care and my delight, My daily longing, and my dream by night: O night, more pleasing than the brightest day, 145 When fancy gives what absence takes away, And, dress'd in all its visionary charms, Restores

my

fair deferter to my arms! Then round your neck in wanton wreaths I twine, Then you, methinks, as fondly circle mine :

150 A thousand

Gaudet et'e noftro crescit moerore Charaxus 135

Frater; et ante oculos itque reditque meos. Utque pudenda mei videatur causa doloris;

Quid dolet haec ? certe filia vivit, ait. Non veniunt in idem pudor atque amor : omne videbat

Vulgus; eram lacero pectus aperta finu. 140 Tu mihi cura, Phaon; te fomnia nostra reducunt;

Somnia formoso candidiora die. Illic te invenio, quanquam regionibus absis ; 145

Sed non longa fatis gaudia somnus habet. Saepe tuos noftra cervice onerare lacertos, Saepe tuae videor supposuisse meos.

igo