No more my foul a charm in music finds,
Music has charms alone for peaceful minds.
Soft scenes of folitude no more can please,
Love enters there, and I'm my own disease.
No more the Lesbian dames my passion move,
Once the dear objects of my guilty love;
All other loves are lost in only thine,
Ah, youth ungrateful to a flame like mine!
Whom would not all those blooming charms furprize,
Those heavenly looks, and dear deluding eyes ?
The harp and bow would you like Phœbus bear,
A brighter Phœbus Phaon might appear;
Would you with ivy wreathe your flowing hair,
Not Bacchus' self with Phaon could compare :
Yet Phœbus lov'd, and Bacchus felt the flame,
One Daphne warm'd, and one the Cretan dame;
Nec mihi, dispositis quae jungam carmina nervis,
Proveniunt; vacuae carmina mentis opus.
Nec me Pyrrhiades Methymniadesve puellae,
Nec me Lesbiadum caetera turba juvant.
Vilis Anactorie, vilis mihi candida Cydno:
Non oculis grata est Atthis, ut ante, meis;
Atque aliae centum, quas non fine crimine amavi :
Improbe, multarum quod fuit, unus habes.
Est in te facies, funt apti lusibus anni.
O facies oculis infidiofa meis!
Sume fidem et pharetram; fies manifestus Apollo;
Accedant capiti cornua; Bacchus eris.
Nymphs that in verse no more could rival me,
Then ev'n those Gods contend in charms with thee. 30
The Muses teach me all their softest lays,
And the wide world resounds with Sappho's praise.
Though great Alcæus more fublimely sings,
And strikes with bolder rage the founding strings,
No less renown attends the moving lyre,
Which Venus tunes, and all her Loves inspire;
To me what nature has in charms deny'd,
Is well by wit's more lasting flames supply'd.
Though short my stature, yet my name extends
To heaven itself, and earth's remotest ends.
Brown as I am, an Ethiopian dame
Inspir'd young Perseus with a generous flame;
Turtles and doves of differing hues unite,
And glossy jet is pair'd with shining white.
Et Phœbus Daphnen, et Gnofida Bacchus amavit;
Nec norat lyricos illa, vel illa modos.
At mihi Pegafides blandissima carmina dictant;
Jam canitur toto nomen in orbe meum.
Nec plus Alcaeus, confors patriaeque lyraeque,
Laudis habet, quamvis grandius ille fonet.
Si mihi difficilis formam natura negavit;
Ingenio formae damna rependo meae.
Sum brevis; at nomen, quod terras impleat omnes,
Est mihi; menfuram nominis ipfa fero.
Candida si non sum, placuit Cepheïa Perfeo
Andromede, patriae fufca colore fuae :
Et variis albae junguntur faepe columbae,
Et niger a viridi turtur amatur ave.
If to no charms thou wilt thy heart refign,
But fuch as merit, fuch as equal thine,
By none, alas! by none thou canst 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 Music, then, you could for ever hear,
And all my words were music to your ear.
You ftopp'd with kisses my enchanting tongue,
And found my kisses sweeter than my fong.
In all I pleas'd, but most in what was best ;
And the last joy was dearer than the rest.
Then with each word, each glance, each motion fir'd,
You still enjoy'd, and yet you still defird,
Till all diffolving in the trance we lay,
And in tumultuous raptures dy'd away.
Si, nifi quae facie peterit te digna videri,
Nulla futura tua eft; nulla futura tua est.
At me cum legeres, etiam formosa videbar;
Unam jurabas ufque decere loqui.
Cantabam, memini (meminerunt omnia amantes)
Oscula cantanti tu mihi rapta dabas.
Haec quoque laudabas; omnique a parte placebam,
Sed tum praecipue, cum fit amoris opus.
Tunc te plus folito lascivia nostra juvabat,
Crebraque mobilitas, aptaque verba joco;
The fair Sicilians now thy foul inflame;
Why was I born, ye Gods! a Lesbian dame ?
But ah, beware, Sicilian nymphs! nor boast
That wandering heart which I so lately lost;
Nor be with all those tempting words abus'd,
Those tempting words were all to Sappho us'd.
And you that rule Sicilia's happy plains,
Have pity, Venus, on your poet's pains!
Shall fortune still in one sad tenor run,
And still increase the woes so soon begun?
Inur'd to forrow from my tender years,
My parent's ashes drank my early tears:
Quique, ubi jam amborum fuerat confusa voluptas,
Plurimus in lasso corpore languor erat.
Nunc tibi Sicelides veniunt nova praeda puellae ;
Quid mihi cum Lesbo? Sicelis esse volo.
At vos erronem tellure remittite nostrum,
Nifiades matres, Nisiadesque nurus.
Neu vos decipiant blandae mendacia linguae : 65
Quae dicit vobis, dixerat ante mihi.
Tu quoque quae montes celebras, Erycina, Sicanos,
(Nam tua sum) vati confule, diva, tuae.
An gravis inceptum peragit fortuna tenorem ?
Et manet in cursu semper acerba suo ?
Sex mihi natales ierant, cum lecta parentis
Ante diem lacrymas ossa bibere meas.
Arsit inops frater, victus meretricis amore;
Mistaque cum turpi damna pudore tulit.
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 distract my breast.
Alas, what more could fate itself impose,
But thee, the last and greatest of my woes?
No more my robes in waving purple flow,
Nor on my 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 ?
He's gone, whom only she defir'd to please !
Factus inops agili peragit freta coerula remo:
Quasque male amifit, nunc male quaerit opes :
Me quoque, quod monui bene multa fideliter, odit.
Hoc mihi libertas, hoc pia lingua dedit.
Et tanquam defint, 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 sine lege capilli;
Nec premit articulos lucida gemma meos.
Veste tegop yili: nullum est in crinibus aurum :
Non Arabo nofter rore capillus olet.
Cui colar infelix? aut cui placuisse laborem ?
Ille mihi cultus unicus auctor abest
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