Sappho and Phaon, by Mary Robinson, , at sacred-texts.com
Oh! canst thou bear to see this faded frame,
Deformd and mangled by the rocky deep?
Wilt thou remember, and forbear to weep,
My fatal fondness, and my peerless fame?
Soon oer this heart, now warm with passions flame,
The howling winds and foamy waves shall sweep;
Those eyes be ever closd in deaths cold sleep,
And all of Sappho perish, but her name!
Yet, if the Fates suspend their barbrous ire,
If days less mournful, Heavn designs for me!
If rocks grow kind, and winds and waves conspire,
To bear me softly on the swelling sea;eacute;
To Phoebus only will I tune my Lyre,
"What suits with Sappho, Phoebus suits with thee!"