Sappho and Phaon, by Mary Robinson, , at sacred-texts.com
Farewell, ye towring Cedars, in whose shade,
Lulld by the Nightingale, I sunk to rest,
While spicy breezes hoverd oer my breast
To fan my cheek, in deepning tints arrayd;
While amrous insects, humming round me, playd,
Each flowr forsook, of prouder sweets in quest;
Of glowing lips, in humid fragrance drest,
That mockd the Sunny Hyblas vaunted aid!
Farewell, ye limpid rivers! Oh! farewell!
No more shall Sappho to your grots repair;
No more your white waves to her bosom swell,
Or your dank weeds, entwine her floating hair;
As erst, when Venus in her sparry cell
Wept, to behold a brighter goddess there!