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Sappho's ode to Aphrodite.

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; [94]

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,
Sacred Protector!

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Sappho (3)
Aphrodite (3)
Zeus (1)
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