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At quanto melius jungi mea pectora tecum,
Quam poterant faxis praecipitanda dari !

225 Haec sunt illa, Phaon, quae tu laudare solebas ;

Visaque sunt toties ingeniosa tibi.
Nunc vellem facunda forent: dolor artibus obftat;

Ingeniumque meis fubftitit omne malis.
Non mihi respondent veteres in carmina vires. 230

Plectra dolore tacent: muta dolore lyra eft. Lesbides aequoreae, nupturaque nuptaque proles;

Lesbides, Aeolia nomina dicta lyra; Lesbides, infamem quae me fecistis amatae ;

Definite ad citharas turba venire meas. Abstulit omne Phaon, quod vobis ante placebat. 235 (Me 'miseram! dixi quam modo pene, meus !)

, Efficite ut redeat: vates quoque veftra redibit. Ingenio vires ille dat, ille rapit.

240 Ecquid ago precibus ?. pectusne agreste movetur ?

An riget? et Zephyri verba caduca ferunt ? Qui mea verba ferunt, vellem tua vela referrent.

Hoc te, fi faperes, lente, decebat opus. Sive redis, puppique tuạe votiva parantur

Munera; quid laceras pectora noftra mora ?

P Η ΑΟ

H A O Ah! canst thou rather see this tender breast Dash'd on these rocks than to thy bosom prest ? 225 This breast which once, in vain ! you lik'd so well; Where the Loves play'd, and where the Muses dwell. Alas! the Muses now no more inspire, Untun'd my lute, and filent is my lyre, My languid numbers have forgot to flow, 230 And fancy links 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 fongs shall ring, No more these hands shall touch the trembling string : My Phaon's fled, and I those arts resign 236 (Wretch that I am, to call that Phaon mine!) Return, fair youth, return, and bring along Joy to my soul, and vigour to my song: Absent from thee, the Poet's flame expires;

240 But ah! how fiercely burn the Laver’s fires ? Gods! can no pray’rs, no sighs, no numbers move One favage heart, or teach it how to love ? The winds my pray’rs, my sighs, my numbers bear, The flying winds have lost them all in air ! 245 Oh when, alas ! shall more auspicious gales To these fond eyes restore thy welcome fails ? If you return - ah why these long delays?

? Poor Sappho dies wiiile careless Phaon stays,

22

S Α Ρ Ρ Η Ο Ρ Η Α Ο Ν Ι.

ز

Solve ratem: Venus orta mari, mare praestet eunti.

Aura dabit cursum ; tu modo solve ratem. Ipse gubernabit residens in puppe Cupido :

Ipse dabit tenera vela legetque manu. Sive juvat longe fugisse Pelasgida Sappho;

(Non tamen invenies, cur ego digna fuga.) 255 [O faltem miserae, crudelis, epistola dicat:

Ut mihi Leucadiae fata petantur aquae.]

250

PHOTO PHAON

N.
O launch thy bark, nor fear the wat’ry plain ;
Venus for thee shall smooth her native main.
O launch thy bark, secure of prosp'rous gales ;
Cupid for thee shall spread the swelling fails.

will fly—(yet ah! what cause can be,
Too cruel youth, that you should fly from me?)
If not from Phaon I must hope for eafe,
Ah let me seek it from the raging seas :
To raging seas unpity'd I'll remove,
And either cease to live or cease to love !

If you

256

B4

ARGUMEN T.

A

BELARD and Eloisa flourished in the twelfth Cen

tury; they were two of the most diftinguished persons of their age in learning and beauty, but for nothing more famous than for their unfortunate passion. After a long course of calamities, they retired each to a several Convent, and consecrated the remainder of their days to religion. It was many years after this separation, that a letter of Abelard's to a Friend, which contained the history of his misfortune, fell into the hands of Eloisa. This awakening all her tenderness, occafioned those celebrated letters (out of which the following is partly extracted) which give so lively a picture of the struggles of grace and nature, virtue and passion. P.

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