Page:The Works of Alexander Pope (1717).djvu/320
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SAPHO to PHAON.
Ye gentle gales, beneath my body blow,
And softly lay me on the waves below!
And thou, kind Love, my sinking limbs sustain,
Spread thy soft wings, and waft me o'er the main,
Nor let a Lover's death the guiltless flood profane!
On Phœbus' shrine my harp I'll then bestow,
And this inscription shall be plac'd below.
"Here she who sung, to him that did inspire,
"Sapho to Phœbus consecrates her Lyre;
"What suits with Sapho, Phœbus suits with thee;
"The gift, the giver, and the God agree.
But why, alas, relentless youth, ah why
To distant seas must tender Sapho fly?
Thy charms than those may far more pow'rful be,
And Phœbus' self is less a God to me.
Ah! can'st thou doom me to the rocks and sea,
O far more faithless and more hard than they?
Ah! can'st thou rather see this tender breast
Dash'd on those rocks, than to thy bosom prest?
And softly lay me on the waves below!
And thou, kind Love, my sinking limbs sustain,
Spread thy soft wings, and waft me o'er the main,
Nor let a Lover's death the guiltless flood profane!
On Phœbus' shrine my harp I'll then bestow,
And this inscription shall be plac'd below.
"Here she who sung, to him that did inspire,
"Sapho to Phœbus consecrates her Lyre;
"What suits with Sapho, Phœbus suits with thee;
"The gift, the giver, and the God agree.
But why, alas, relentless youth, ah why
To distant seas must tender Sapho fly?
Thy charms than those may far more pow'rful be,
And Phœbus' self is less a God to me.
Ah! can'st thou doom me to the rocks and sea,
O far more faithless and more hard than they?
Ah! can'st thou rather see this tender breast
Dash'd on those rocks, than to thy bosom prest?
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