 | Sappho |  |
359
SCENE VII.
The Priests of Hymen hasten from the Altar and join the other personages on the front of the Stage; the Temple, Statue, &c. vanish instantly under a change of scene, which represents the Promontory of Leucate. The portico of a magnificent Temple dedicated to Apollo is seen in perspective on one side; out of which the Priests of the god come in solemn procession, followed by Sappho and her attendants: a slow pathetic march is played during the time. Two Orchestras are supposed to be necessary in the final Chorus, and one behind the scene at first.SAPPHO.
Here pause awhile! be mute,
Ye warblers, that inspire the Dorian flute,
While Sappho, once the fav'rite of the Nine,
Nay, if fame bids her not too high aspire,
Their tuneful sister, to the radiant shrine
Of this her patron god, perchance her sire,
Devotes this instrument divine.
[She hangs her Lyre on one of the Pillars.
Lo! on this column's Parian height
I hang the glittering freight:
And hear, ye Priests, with reverence hear
This verse inscriptive, by my voice decreed
Memorial of my dying deed.
“To Him, that did inspire,
“Sappho to Phœbus consecrates her lyre.
“What suits with Sappho, Phœbus, suits with thee;
“The gift, the giver, and the god agree.”
This off'ring made, my faithful virgin train,
Take ye my last adieu, and from my fate
Learn to distrust false man, if not to hate.
[She ascends the Rock.
Ye warblers, that inspire the Dorian flute,
While Sappho, once the fav'rite of the Nine,
Nay, if fame bids her not too high aspire,
Their tuneful sister, to the radiant shrine
Of this her patron god, perchance her sire,
Devotes this instrument divine.
[She hangs her Lyre on one of the Pillars.
Lo! on this column's Parian height
I hang the glittering freight:
And hear, ye Priests, with reverence hear
This verse inscriptive, by my voice decreed
Memorial of my dying deed.
“To Him, that did inspire,
“Sappho to Phœbus consecrates her lyre.
360
“The gift, the giver, and the god agree.”
This off'ring made, my faithful virgin train,
Take ye my last adieu, and from my fate
Learn to distrust false man, if not to hate.
Tremendous Rock! I mount thee now;
And now I reach thy dreadful brow.
O giddy brain support the sight!
See, how the surge, as black as night,
Rolls horribly below!
It rolls—sad solace to despair,
Its awful murmurs strike my ear.
And now I reach thy dreadful brow.
O giddy brain support the sight!
See, how the surge, as black as night,
Rolls horribly below!
It rolls—sad solace to despair,
Its awful murmurs strike my ear.
I faint—I tremble—Powers on high,
Ah! hasten from your sky:
Catch from perdition this devoted head.
Does Zephyr sleep? will Cupid bring
No soft, no tutelary wing
To waft me to my wat'ry bed?
Hear, god of Love, 'tis Sappho calls!
Dread deity! 'tis Sappho falls.
[She throws herself from the rock; a clap of thunder
is heard, and a swan is seen rising from the
sea, and ascending to the clouds.
Ah! hasten from your sky:
Catch from perdition this devoted head.
Does Zephyr sleep? will Cupid bring
No soft, no tutelary wing
To waft me to my wat'ry bed?
Hear, god of Love, 'tis Sappho calls!
Dread deity! 'tis Sappho falls.
361
PRIESTS OF APOLLO, HYMEN, AGENOR, &c.
Great Jove himself arrests her fate!
Hail, prodigy divine!
She soars a swan in plumy state;
To Jove she soars, to claim
In heav'n a residence divine,
On earth immortal fame.
| Sappho | |