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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 Music, then, you could for ever hear,
And all


words were music to your ear. You stopp'd with kisses my enchanting tongue, 55 And found my kisses sweeter than my fong. In all I pleas’d, but most in what was best ; And the last joy was aszfer than the rest. Then with each word, each glance, each motion fired, You still enjoy'd, and yet you still defird,

60 Till all diffolving in the trance we lay, And in tumultuous raptures dy'd away. The fair Sicilians now thy foul inflame ; Why was I born, ye Gods! a Lesbian dame? But ah, beware, Sicilian nymphs! nor boalt 65 That wand'ring heart which I fo lately loft ; Nor be with all those tempting words abus'd, Those tempting words were all to Sappho us'd.

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Cantabam, memini (meminerunt omnia amantes)
Oscula cantanti tu mihi


so Haec quoque laudabas : omnique a parte placebam,

Sed tum praecipue, cum fit amoris opus. Tunc te plus solito lascivia noftra juvabat,

Crebraque mobilitas, aptaque verba joco; Quique, ubi jam amborum fuerat confusa voluptas,

Plurimus in laffo corpore languor erat.
Nunc tibi Sicelides veniunt nova praeda puellae ;

Quid mihi cum Lesbo ? Sicelis esse volo.
At vos erronem tellure remittite noftrum,

Nisiades matres, Nisiadesque nurus. Neu vos decipiant blandae mendacia linguae: 65

Quae dicit vobis, dixerat ante mihi.

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And you that rule Sicilia's happy plains,
Have picy, Venus, on your poet's pains !
Shall fortune fill in one sad tenor run,
And fill increase the woes so soon begun?
Inur’d to forrow from


Niy parent's alhes drank my early tears :
My brother next, neglecting wealth and fame,
Ignobly burn'd in a destructive flame:
An infant daughter late my griefs increas'd,
and all a mother's cares diftract


Alas, what more could fate itself impose,
But thce, the last 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 diffuse
The conly sweetness of Arabian dews,


Tu quoque quae montes celebras, Erycina, Sicanos,

(Nam tua sum) vati confule, diva, tuae. An gravis inceptum peragit fortuna tenorem ? 70

Et manet in cursu semper acerba suo? {ex mihi natales ierant, cum lecta parentis

Ante diem lacrymas ossa bibere' meas. Arit inops frater, victus meretricis amore;

wiltaque cum turpi damna pudore tulit. faâus inops agili peragit freta coerula remo: 75

Quasque male amifit, nunc male quaerit opes: Me quoque, quod monui bene multa fideliter, odit.

Hoc mihi libertas, -hoc pia lingua dedit.
Et tanquam desint, quae me fine fine fatigent,

Accumulat curas filia parva meas.
Ultima tu nostris accedis causa querelis :

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

Nec premic articulos lucida gemma meos.

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Nor braids of gold the varied tresses bind,

85 That fly disorder'd with the wanton wind: For whom should Sappho use such arts as these? He's gone, whom only the desir'd to please! Cupid's light darts my tender bosom move, Still is there cause for Sappho still to love: So from


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 iny strains.
By charms like thine which all my soul have won, 95,
Who might not

- ah! who would not be undone ?
For those Aurora Cephalus might fcorn,
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.
Veie tegor vili: nullúm eft in crinibus aurum :

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

Ille mihi cultûs unicus auctor abeft.
Molle meum levibus cor eft violabile telis;

Et femper caufa eft, cur ego femper amem.
Sive ita nascenti legem dixere forores,

Et data funt vitae fila fevera meae ;
Sive abeunt ftudia in mores, artesque magistrae,

ingenium nobis molle Thalia facit. Quid mirum, fi me primae lanuginis aetas 95

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

Et faceres; fed te prima rapin a tenet.
Hunc fi conspiciat, quae conspicit omnia, Phoeb?;

Jussus erit som nos continuare Phaon.
Hunc Venus in coelum curru vexiffet eburno;
Sed videt et Marti posle placere suo,




O scarce 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 lost in tears !
The lefs 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 faid;
Or coldly thus, Farewell, oh Lesbian maid !
No tear did you, no parting kiss receive, 115
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. No charge I gave you, and no charge could give, Eut this, Be mindful of our loves, and live,



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

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

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

Afpice, quam fit in hoc multa litura loco.
Si tam certus eras hinc ire, modeftius îffes,

Et modo dixisses : Lesbi puella, vale.
Non tecum lacrymas, non oscula summa tulifti;

Denique non timui, quod dolicura fui.
Nil de te mecum est, nisi tantum injuria : nec tu,

Admoneat quod te, pignus amantis habes.
Non mandata dedi; neque enim mandata dediffem:

Ulla, nisi ut nolles immemor efle meio



Now by the Nine, those pow'rs ador'd by me,
And Love, the God that ever waits on thee,
When firit I heard (from whom I hardly knew)
T'hat you were fled, and all my joys with you,
Like some fad ftatue, speechless, pale I flood,
Grief chill'd my breast, and stopp'd my freezing blood;
No figh to rise, no tear had pow'r 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,


weep; I curse, and then complain ;
Now swell to rage, now melt in tears agaio.
Not fiercer pangs distract the mournful dame,
Whose first-born infant feeds the fun'ral fame.
My scornful brother with a smile appears,

Insults my woes, and triumphs in iny tears,
His hated image ever haunts my eyes;
And why this grief? thy daughter lives, he cries.

Per tibi, qui nunquam longe discedat, Amorem,

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

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

Astrictum gelido frigore pectus erat.
Poftquam se 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 nostro crescit moerore Charaxus

835 Frater ; et ante oculos itque reditque meos. Utque padenda mei videatur causa doloris ; Quid dolet haec ? certe filia vivit, ait.

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