Sappho and Phaon, by Mary Robinson, , at sacred-texts.com
What means the mist opake that veils these eyes;
Why does yon threatning tempest shroud the day?
Why does thy altar, Venus, fade away,
And on my breast the dews of horror rise?
Phaon is false! be dim ye orient Skies;
And let black Erebus succeed your ray;
Let clashing thunders roll, and lightning play;
Phaon is false! and hopeless Sappho dies!
"Farewell! my Lesbian love, you might have said,"
Such sweet remembrance had some pity provd,
"Or coldly this, farewell, Oh! Lesbian maid!"
No task severe, for one so fondly lovd!
The gentle thought had soothd my wandring shade,
From lifes dark valley, and its thorns removd!