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No more my locks in ringlets curl'd diffuse
The costly sweetness of Arabian dews,
Nor braids of gold the varied treffes bind,
That fly disorder'd with the wanton wind:
For whom fhould Sappho ufe fuch arts as these?
He's gone, whom only she defir'd to please!
Cupid's light darts my tender bofom move,
Still is there caufe for Sappho ftill to love:
So from my birth the Sifters fix'd my doom,
And gave to Venus all my life to come;
Or, while my Muse in melting notes complains,
My yielding heart keeps measure to my strains.
By charms like thine which all my foul have won,
Who might not-ah! who would not be undone?
For thofe Aurora Cephalus might fcorn,

And with fresh blushes paint the conscious morn.
For thofe might Cynthia lengthen Phaon's sleep,
And bid Endymion nightly tend his sheep.
Venus for thofe had rapt thee to the skies,
But Mars on thee might look with Venus' eyes.
O fcarce a youth, yet scarce a tender boy!
O ufeful 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 fenfe, the more my love appears.



Non tecum lacrymas, non ofcula fumma tulisti;
Denique non timui, quod dolitura fui.

Nil de te mecum eft, nifi tantum injuria: nec tu,
Admoneat quod te, pignus amantis habes.
Non mandata dedi; neque enim mandata dediffem
Ulla, nifi ut nolles immemor effe mei.
Per tibi, qui nunquam longe difcedat; Amorem,
Perque novem juro, numina noftra, Deas;
Cum mihi nefcio quis, Fugiunt tua gaudia, dixit:
Nec me flere diu, nec potuiffe loqui;

Et lacrymae deerant oculis, et lingua palato :
Aftrictum gelido frigore pectus erat.
Poftquam fe 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 noftro crefcit moerore Charaxus
Frater; et ante oculos itque riditque meos.
Utque pudenda mei videatur caufa doloris ;

Quid dolet haec? certe filia vivit, ait.



Non veniunt in idem pudor atque amor: omne videbat Vulgus; eram lacero pectus aperta finu.



VER. 120. Ele mei] Trapp, in his Prelections, feverely cenfures Ovid for his laziness and careleffnefs in ending fo many of his pentameter verfes with the words, mei, tui, and fui; a fault which Tibullus and Propertius have avoided. But I cannot be of Trapp's opinion, that it is improper to end pentameter verfes with words of three or more fyllables; which certainly gives a variety to the numbers, and is frequently done in fome of the best Greek epigrams.


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.
No charge I gave you, and no charge could give,
But this, Be mindful of our loves, and live.
Now by the Nine, those pow'rs 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 fome fad ftatue, fpeechlefs, pale I ftood,




Grief chill'd my breast, and stop'd my freezing blood;
No figh to rife, no tear had pow'r to flow,
Fix'd in a stupid lethargy of woe:

But when its way th' impetuous paffion found,
I rend my treffes, and my breaft I wound;
I rave, then weep; I curfe, and then complain;
Now fwell to rage, now melt in tears again.
Not fiercer pangs diftract the mournful dame,
Whofe firft-born infant feeds the fun'ral flame.
My fcornful brother with a smile appears,
Infults my woes, and triumphs in my tears,
His hated image ever haunts my eyes,
And why this grief? thy daughter lives, he cries.




Tu mihi cura, Phaon; te fomnia noftra reducunt;
Somnia formofo condidiora die.

Illic te invenio, quanquam rigionibus abfis;
Sed non longa fatis gaudia fomnus habet.
Saepe tuos noftra cervice onerare lacertos,
Saepe tuae videor fuppofuiffe meos.
Blandior interdum, verifque fimilima verba
Eloquor; et vigilant fenfibus ora meis.
Ofcula cognofco; quae tu committere linguae,
Aptaque confueras accipere, apta dare.
Ulteriora pudet narrare; fed omnia fiunt.
Et juvat, et fine te non libet effe mihi.
At cum fe Titan oftendit, et omnia fecum;
Tam cito me fomnos deftituiffe queror.



Antra nemufque peto, tanquam nemus antraque


Confcia deliciis illa fuere tuis.

Illuc mentis inops, ut quam furialis Erichtho

Impulit, in collo crine jacente feror.

Antra vident oculi fcabro pendentia topho,
Quae mihi Mygdonii marmoris inftar erant.



Stung with my love, and furious with despair,
All torn my garments, and my bofom bare,
My woes, thy crimes, I to the world proclaim;
Such inconfiftent things are love and fhame!
'Tis thou art all my care and my delight,
My daily longing, and my dream by night:


Oh night more pleafing than the brightest day, 145
When fancy gives what abfence takes away,
And, drefs'd in all its vifionary charms,

Restores my fair deferter to my arms!



Then round your neck in wanton wreath I twine,
Then you, methinks, as fondly circle mine:
A thousand tender words I hear and speak;
A thousand melting kiffes give, and take:
Then fiercer joys, I blush to mention these,
Yet, while I blush, confess how much they please.
But when, with day, the sweet delufions fly,
And all things wake to life and joy, but I,
As if once more forfaken, I complain,
And close my eyes to dream of you again :
Then frantic rife, and like fome Fury rove
Through lonely plains, and through the filent grove,
As if the filent grove, and lonely plains,

That knew my pleasures, could relieve my pains.
I view the grotto, once the fcene of love,
The rocks around, the hanging roofs above,



VER. 139. Stung with my love] The ten next verses are much

fuperior to the original.


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