The Works of the English Poets: With Prefaces, Biographical and Critical

20

24

Within the earth I bid him ftand,
Then chafe and cherish either hand
Between my palms, and wring, with care,
The trickling water from his hair.

Now come, said he, no longer chill,
We 'll bend this bow, and try our skill,
And prove the string, how far its power
Remains unflacken'd by the shower.

He bends his bow, and culls his quiver,
And pierces, like a breeze, my liver:
Then leaping, laughing, as he fled,
Rejoice with me, my hoft, he said:
My bow is found in every part,
And you shall rue it at your

heart.

28

32

Α Ν Η Υ Μ Ν

TO VENUS,

From the GRE E K of SAPP HO.

I. O

VENUS, beauty of the skies,

To whom a thousand temples rise,
Gayly false in gentle smiles,
Full of love-perplexing wiles,
O, goddess! from my heart remove
The wasting cares and pains of love,

II.
If ever thou hast kindly heard
A fong in soft distress preferid,
Propitious to my tuneful vow,
O, gentle goddess ! hear me now.

Descend,

36

20

Descend, thou bright, immortal guest,
In all thy radiant charms confess'd.

III.
Thou once didst leave almighty Jove,
And all the golden roofs above :
The car thy wanton sparrows drew;
Hovering in air they lightly flew;

As to my bower they wing'd their way,
• I saw their quivering pinions play.

IV.
The birds dismiss’d (while you remain)
Bore back their empty car again :
Then you, with looks divinely mild,
In every heavenly feature smild,
And ask'd, what new complaints I made,
And why I call'd you to my aid?

v.
What frenzy in my bosom rag'd,
And by what care to be assuag'd ?
What gentle youth I would allure,
Whom in my artful toils secure ?
Who does thy tender heart subdue,
Tell me, my Sappho, tell me who ?

VI.
Though now he funs thy longing arms,
He soon shall court thy slighted charms; 32
Though now thy offerings he despise,
He soon to thee shall sacrifice;
Though now he freeze, he soon shall burn,
And be thy victim in his turn.

VII, Celer

36

VII.
Celestial visitant, once more
Thy needful presence I implore !
In pity come and ease my grief,
Bring my distemper’d soul relief :
Favour thy suppliant's hiddeñ fires,
And give me all my heart desires.

A FRAGMENT OF

SAPPHO.

BLI

8

I.
LESS'D as the immortal gods is he,

The youth who fondly fits by thee,
And hears and sees thee all the while
Softly speak, and sweetly smile.

II.
'Twas this depriv'd my soul of rest,
And rais'd fuch tumults in my breast;
For while I gaz'd, in transport toss'd,
My breath was gone, my voice was lost.

III.
My bosom glow.d; the subtle flame
Ran quickly through all my

vital frame
O'er
my
dim
eyes

a darkness hung, My ears with hollow murmurs rung.

IV.
In dewy damps my limbs were chillid,
My blood with gentle horrors thrill'd;
My feeble pulse forgot to play,
I fainted, funk, and dy'd away.