Sappho and Phaon, by Mary Robinson, , at sacred-texts.com
To Ætnas scorching sands my Phaon flies!
False Youth! can other charms attractive prove?
Say, can Sicilian loves thy passions move,
Play round thy heart, and fix thy fickle eyes,
While in despair the Lesbian Sappho dies?
Has Spring for thee a crown of poppies wove,
Or dost thou languish in th Idalian grove,
Whose altar kindles, fannd by Lovers sighs?
Ah! think, that while on Ætnas shores you stray,
A fire, more fierce than Ætnas, fills my breast;
Nor deck Sicilian nymphs with garlands gay,
While Sapphos brows with cypress wreaths are drest;
Let one kind word my weary woes repay,
Or, in eternal slumbers bid them rest.