poikilo/qrona, a)qa/nata *)afrodi/ta. Sappho.Beautiful-throned, immortal Aphrodite!
Daughter of Zeus, beguiler! I implore thee
Weigh me not down with weariness and anguish,
O thou most holy!
Come to me now! if ever thou in kindness
Hearkenedst my words,--and often hast thou hearkened,
Heeding, and coming from the mansion golden
Of thy great Father,
Yoking thy chariot, borne by thy most lovely
Consecrated birds, with dusky-tinted pinions,
Waving swift wings from utmost heights of heaven
Through the mid-ether; 
Swiftly they vanished, leaving thee, O Goddess!
Smiling, with face immortal in its beauty,
Asking why I grieved, and why in utter longing
I had dared call thee;
Asking what I sought, thus hopeless in desiring,
'Wildered in brain, and spreading nets of passion—
Alas, for whom? and saidst thou, “Who has harmed thee?
O my poor Sappho!
“Though now he flies, ere long he shall pursue thee;
Fearing thy gifts, he too in turn shall bring them;
Loveless to-day, to-morrow he shall woo thee,
Though thou shouldst spurn him.”
Thus seek me now, O holy Aphrodite!
Save me from anguish, give me all I ask for,--
Gifts at thy hand! And thine shall be the glory,