A fpring there is, whose filver waters show,
Clear as a glass, the shining fands below;
A flowery Lotos fpreads its arms above,
Shades all the banks, and seems itself a grove ;
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 watery Virgin stood:
She stood and cry'd, "O you that love in vain! 66 Fly hence, and seek 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 extinguish, and forget to love. "Deucalion once with hopeless fury burn'd, "In vain he lov'd, relentless Pyrrha scorn'd : "But when from hence he plung'd into the main, 195 "Deucalion fcorn'd, and Pyrrha lov'd in vain.
Eft nitidus, vitroque magis perlucidus omni,
Fons facer; hunc multi numen habere putant.
Quem fupra ramos expandit aquatica lotos,
Una nemus; tenero cespite terra viret.
Hic ego cum laffos pofuiffem fletibus artus,
Conftitit ante oculos Naïas una meos.
Conftitit, et dixit, " Quoniam non ignibus aequis
"Ureris, Ambracias terra petenda tibi.
"Phoebus ab excelfo, quantum patet, afpicit æquor: "Actiacum populi Leucadiumque vocant. "Hinc fe Deucalion Pyrrhae fuccenfus amore "Mifit, et illaefo corpore preffit aquas.
"Hafte, Sappho, hafte, from high Leucadia throw
"Thy wretched weight, nor dread the deeps below!"
She spoke, and vanish'd with the voice-I rife,
And filent tears fall trickling from my eyes.
I go, ye Nymphs! those rocks and seas to prove;
How much I fear, but ah, how much I love!
I go, ye Nymphs, where furious love inspires;
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.
Ye gentle gales, beneath my body blow,
And foftly lay me on the waves below!
And thou, kind Love, my finking limbs fuftain,
Spread thy foft wings, and waft me o'er the main,
Nor let a lover's death the guiltless flood prophane !
"Nec mora: verfus Amor tetigit lentiffima Pyrrhae
"Pectora; Deucalion igne levatus erat.
"Hanc legem locus ille tenet, pete protinus altam
"Leucada; nec faxo defiluiffe time."
Ut monuit, cum voce abiit. Ego frigida furgo:
Nec gravidae lacrymas continuere genae.
Ibimus, O Nymphae, monftrataque faxa petemus.
Sit procul infano victus amore timor.
Quicquid erit, melius quam nunc erit: aura, fubito.
Et mea non magnum corpora pondus habent.
Tu quoque, mollis Amor, pennas fuppone cadenti :
Ne fim Lucadiae mortua crimen aquae.
Inde chelyn Phoebo communia munera ponam :
Et fub ea verfus unus et alter-erunt.
On Phoebus' fhrine my harp I'll then bestow, And this Infcription fhall be plac'd below. "Here the who fung, to him that did infpire, "Sappho to Phoebus confecrates her Lyre; "What fuits with Sappho, Phoebus, fuits with thee; "The gift, the giver, and the God agree." But why, alas, relentless youth, ah why To distant feas must tender Sappho fly ? :
Thy charms than those may far more powerful be, 220
And Phoebus' felf is lefs a God to me.
Ah! canft thou doom me to the rocks and fea,
O far more faithlefs and more hard than they?
Ah! canft thou rather fee this tender breaft
Dafh'd on these rocks than to thy bofom prefs'd?
This breast which once, in vain! you lik'd fo well;
Where the Loves play'd, and where the Muses dwell.
Alas!
"Grata lyram pofui tibi, Phoebe, poëtria Sappho :
"Convenit illa mihi, convenit illa tibi.”
Cur tamen Actiacas miferam me mittis ad oras,
Cum profugum poffis ipfe referre pedem ?
Tu mihi Leucadia potes effe falubrior unda :
Et forma et meritis tu mihi Phoebus eris.
An potes, ô fcopulis undaque ferocior illa,
Si moriar, titulum mortis habere meae?
At quanto melius jungi mea pectora tecum,
Quam poterant faxis praecipitanda dari !
Haec funt illa, Phaon, quae tu laudare folebas;
Vifaque funt toties ingeniofa tibi.
Alaş! the Mufes now no more infpire,
Untun'd my lute, and filent is my lyre;
My languid numbers have forgot to flow,
And fancy finks beneath a weight of woe.
Ye Lesbian virgins, and ye Lesbian dames,
Themes of my verse, and objects of my flames,
No more your groves with my glad songs shall ring,
No more thefe hands fhall touch the trembling string:
My Phaon's fled, and I thofe arts refign,
(Wretch that I am, to call that Phaon mine!)
Return, fair youth, return, and bring along
Joy to my foul, and vigour to my fong :
Absent from thee, the Poet's flame expires;
But ah! how fiercely burn the Lover's fires?
Gods! can no prayers, no fighs, no numbers, move
One favage heart, or teach it how to love?
Nunc vellem facunda forent: dólor artibus obftat;
Ingeniumque meis fubftitit omne malis.
Non mihi refpondent veteres in carmina vires.
Plectra dolore tacent: muta dolore lyra eft.
Lesbides aequoreae, nupturaque nuptaque proles;
Lesbides, Aeolia nomina dicta lyra;
Lesbides, infamem quae me feciftis amatae ;
Definite ad citharas turba venire meas.
Abftulit omne Phaon, quod vobis ante placebat.
(Me miferam! dixi quam modo pene, meus !).
Efficite ut redeat: vates quoque veftra redibit.
Ingenio vires ille dat, ille rapit.
Ecquid ago precibus? pectufne agrefte movetur?
An riget? et Zephyri verba caduca ferunt?
The winds my prayers, my fighs, my numbers bear, `
The flying winds have lost them all in air!
Oh when, alas! fhall more auspicious gales
To these fond eyes restore thy welcome fails?
If you return-ah why these long delays?
Poor Sappho dies while careless Phaon stays.
O launch thy bark, nor fear the watery plain;
Venus for thee fhall fmooth her native main.
O launch thy bark, secure of profperous gales;
Cupid for thee shall fpread the fwelling fails.
you will fly-(yet ah! what cause can be,
Too cruel youth, that you should fly from me?) 255
If not from Phaon I must hope for ease,
Ah let me feek it from the raging feas:
To raging feas unpity'd I'll remove,
And either cease to live, or cease to love!
Qui mea verba ferunt, vellem tua vela referrent.
Hoc te, fi faperes, lente, decebat opus.
Sive redis, puppique tuae votiva parantur
Munera; quid laceras pectora nostra mora?
Solve ratem: Venus orta mari, mare praeftat eunti.
Aurà dabit curfum; tu modo folve ratem.
Ipfe gubernabit refidens in puppe Cupido:
Ipfe dabit tenera vela legetque manu.
Sive juvat longe fugiffe Pelafgida Sappho;
(Non tamen invenies, cur ego digna fuga.)
[O faltem miferae, Crudelis, epiftola dicat:
Ut mihi Leucadiae fata petantur aquae.]
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