Immortal Venus, to whose Name
Millions of Altars daily flame;
Daughter of Jove, whos flatt'ring Art
Knows well to wound a Wretch'd Heart;
Sapho to you directs her Prayers:
Afflict not thus my Soul with Cares;
But ah! expel this raging Pain,
Nor let my Wishes prove in vain.
If Miseries your Pity move,
If Sapho has deserv'd your Love,
Hear me, and ease a tortur'd Mind,
And still, as you were once, be kind;
When Pity sway'd your gentle Breast,
And me above my Hopes you blest.
Hither from Heav'n you took your Way,
For ever Sacred be that Day;
Your wanton Birds the Chariot drew,
Like Lightning thro' the Clouds they flew,
With opening Wings they cut the Air,
And left on Earth their Heav'nly Care;
Then swiftly back your Sparrows flie,
And waft the Chariot to the skie.
A pleasing Smile your Face adorn'd:
You ask'd the Cause for which I mourn'd;
'Twas then those joyful Words you said,
Why does my Sapho seek my Aid?
If Love distress'd has caus'd your Pain,
You shall not sue to me in vain.
The Youth whose Graces you admire,
Shall burn again with equal Fire;
Doom'd, tho' he now your Passion flies,
A certain Victim to your Eyes.
O Venus, with propitious Care,
Indulge my Flame, receive my Prayer;
The Torments of uncertain Love,
From my soft bleeding Heart remove;
Ah! with your own resistless Fire,
Your dying Votary inspire;
Do thou, bright Goddess, grant Success,
My Numbers shall thy Power confess.