Sappho and Phaon - 43. Her Reflections on the Leucadian Rock Before She Perishes
While from the dizzy precipice I gaze,
The world receding from my pensive eyes,
High o'er my head the tyrant eagle flies,
Clothed in the sinking sun's transcendent blaze!
The meek-eyed moon, midst clouds of amber plays,
As o'er the purpling plains of light she hies,
Till the last stream of living lustre dies,
And the cool concave owns her tempered rays!
So shall this glowing, palpitating soul,
Welcome returning reason's placid beam,
While o'er my breast the waves Lethean roll,
To calm rebellious fancy's feverish dream.
Then shall my lyre disdain love's dread control,
And loftier passions prompt the loftier theme!
The world receding from my pensive eyes,
High o'er my head the tyrant eagle flies,
Clothed in the sinking sun's transcendent blaze!
The meek-eyed moon, midst clouds of amber plays,
As o'er the purpling plains of light she hies,
Till the last stream of living lustre dies,
And the cool concave owns her tempered rays!
So shall this glowing, palpitating soul,
Welcome returning reason's placid beam,
While o'er my breast the waves Lethean roll,
To calm rebellious fancy's feverish dream.
Then shall my lyre disdain love's dread control,
And loftier passions prompt the loftier theme!
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