University of Virginia Library

ODE XXVI. THE RESLOVE.

SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN BY SAPPHO .

Yes, I have loved: yet often have I said,
Love in this breast shall never revel more;
But I will listen to wild ocean's roar,
Or, like some out-cast solitary shade,
Will cling upon the howlings of the wind,
Till I grow deaf with listening, cold and blind.
But, ah! enchantress, cease that tender lay,
Nor tune that lyre to notes thus softly slow;
Those eyes, oh take those melting eyes away!
Nor let those lips with honey'd sweets o'erflow,
Nor let meek Pity pale that lovely cheek,
Nor weep, as wretches their long sufferings speak:
With forms so fair endued, oh! Venus, why
Are Lesbian maids, or with such weakness I?
Do Lesbian damsels touch the melting lyre?
My lyre is mute; and I in silence gaze;
As tho' the muse did not this breast inspire,
I lose, in tenderer loves, the love of praise.
Oh! Sappho, how art thou imprisoned round,
Beauty's weak captive, fast-enchained with sound!
Frail, frail resolve! vain promise of a day!
I see, I hear, I feel, and melt away.