The Poetical Works of Elijah Fenton/Phaon to Sappho

by Elijah Fenton

PHAON TO SAPPHO.

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The Ancients have left us little farther account of Phaon, than that he was an old mariner, whom Venus transformed into a very beautiful youth, whom Sappho, and several other Lesbian ladies, fell passionately in love with; and therefore I thought it might be pardonable to vary the circumstances of his story, and to add what I thought proper, in the following Epistle.

 

I soon perceiv'd from whence your letter came,Before I saw it sign'd with Sappho's name:Such tender thoughts in such a flowing verseDid Phœbus to the flying nymph rehearse;Yet Fate was deaf to all his pow'rful charms, 5And tore the beauteous Daphne from his arms.With such concern your passion I surveyAs when I view a vessel toss'd at sea;I beg each friendly pow'r the storm may cease,And ev'ry warring wave be lull'd in peace. 10What can I more than wish? for who can freeThe wretched from the woe the gods decree?With gen'rous pity I'll repay your flame;Pity! ’tis what deserves a softer name;Which yet I fear of equal use would prove 15To sooth a tempest as abate your love.How can my art your fierce disease subdue?I want, alas! a greater cure than you: Benumb'd in death the cold physician lies,While for his help the fev'rish patient cries. 20Call me not cruel, but reproach my fate,And, list'ning while my woes I here relate,Let your soft bosom heave with tender sighs,Let melting sorrow languish in your eyes;Piteous deplore a wretch constrain'd to rove, 25Whose crime and punishment is slighted love;Fix'd for his guilt, to ev'ry coming age,A monument of Cytherea's rage.At Malea born, my race unknown to fame,With oars I ply'd; Colymbus was my name; 30A name that from the diving birds I boreWhich seek their fishy food along the shore.One summer-eve in port I left my sail,And with my partners sought a neighb'ring vale,What time the rural nymphs repair'd to pay 35Their floral honours to the queen of May.At first their various charms my choice confuse;For what is choice where each is fit to chuse?But Love or Fate at length my bosom fir'dWith a bright maid in myrtle-green attir'd; 40A shepherdess she was, and on the lawnSat to the setting sun from dewy dawn;Yet fairer than the nymphs who guard the streamsIn pearly caves, and shun the burning beams.I whisper love; she flies; I still pursue, 45To press her to the joy she never knew; And while I speak the virgin blushes spreadHer damask beauty with a warmer red.I vow'd unshaken faith, invoking loudVenus t' attest the solemn faith I vow'd; 50Invoking all the radiant lights above,(But most the lamp that lights the realm of Love)No more to guide me with their friendly rays,But leave my ship to perish on the seas,If the dear charmer ever chanc'd to find 55My heart disloyal, or my look unkind.A maid will listen when a lover swears,And think his faith more real than her fears.The careful shepherdess secur'd her flocksFrom the devouring wolf and wily fox, 60Yet fell herself an undefended preyTo one more cruel and more false than they.The nuptial joys we there consummate soon,Safe in the friendly silence of the moon;And till the birds proclaim'd the dawning day 65Beneath a shade of flow'rs in transport lay.I rose, and, softly sighing, view'd her o'er;How chang'd I thought from what she was before!Yet still repeated (eager to be gone)My former pledges with a fainter tone, 70And promis'd quick return. The pensive fairWent with reluctance to her fleecy care,While I resolv'd to quit my native shore,Never to see the late-lov'd Malea more. Fresh on the waves the morning-breezes play, 75To bear my vessel and my vows away:With prosp'rous speed I fly before the wind,And leave the length of Lesbos all behind.Far distant from my Malean love at last,(Secure with twenty leagues between us cast) 80I furl my sails, and on the Sigrian shore,Adopting that my seat, the vessel moor;Sigrium, from whose aërial height I spyThe distant fields that bore imperial Troy,Which, still accurs'd for Helen's broken vow, 85Produce thin crops, ungrateful to the plow.I gaze, revolving in my guilty mindWhat future vengeance will my falsehood find,When kings and empires no forgiveness gain'dFor violated rites and faith profan'd! 90Sea-faring on that coast I led my life,A commoner of love, without a wife;Content with casual joys; and vainly thoughtVenus forgave the perjur'd, or forgot.And now my sixtieth year began to shed 95An undistinguish'd winter o'er my head,When, bent for Tenedos, a country dame(I thought her such) for speedy passage came:A palsy shook her limbs; a shrivell'd skinBut ill conceal'd the skeleton within; 100A monument of Time: with equal graceHer garb had poverty to suit her face. Extorting first my price, I spread my sail,And steer my course before a merry gale,Which haply turn'd her tatter'd veil aside, 105When in her lap a golden vase I spy'd,Around so rich with orient gems enchas'd,A flamy lustre o'er the gold they cast.With eager eyes I view the tempting bane,And, failing now secure amid the main, 110With felon force I seize the seeming crone,To plunge her in, and make the prize my own.To Venus straight she chang'd, divine to view!The laughing Loves around their mother flew,Who, circled with a pomp of Graces, stood, 115Such as the first ascended from the flood.I bow'd, ador'd—With terror in her voice,"Thy violence (she cry'd) shall win the prize:"Renew thy wrinkled form; be young and fair;"But soon thy heart shall own the purchase dear."Nor is revenge forgot, tho' long delay'd, 121"For vows attested in the Malean shade—"Wrapt in a purple cloud she cut the skies,And looking down still threaten'd with her eyes.My fear at length dispell'd, (the sight of gold 125Can make an avaricious coward bold)I seiz'd the glitt'ring spoil, in hope to findA case so rich with richer treasures lin'd.The lid remov'd, the vacant space inclos'dAn essence with celestial art compos'd, 130 Which cures old age, and makes the shrivell'd cheekBlushy as Bacchus, and as Hebe sleek;Strength to the nerves the nectar'd sweets supply,And eagle-radiance to the faded eye:Nor sharp disease, nor want, nor age, have pow'r 135T' invade that vigour, and that bloom deflow'r.Th' effect I found; for, when return'd to land,Some drops I sprinkled on my sun-burnt hand;Where'er they fell, surprising to the sight,The freckled brown imbib'd a milky white: 140So look the panther's varied sides, and soThe pheasant's wing, bedropp'd with flakes of snow.I wet the whole, the same celestial hueTinctur'd the whole, meander'd o'er with blue.Struck with amazement here, I pause a space; 145Next with the liquid sweets anoint my face;My neck and hoary locks I then bedew,And in the waves my changing visage view:Straight with my charms the wat'ry mirror glows,Those fatal charms that ruin'd your repose! 150Still doubting, up I start, and fear to findSome young Adonis gazing o'er behind.My waist, and all my limbs, I last besmear'd,And soon a glossy youth o'er all appear'd.Long wrapt in silent wonder, on the strand 155I like a statue of Apollo stand:Like his, with oval grace my front is spread;Like his, my lips and cheeks are rosy red; Like his, my limbs are shap'd; in ev'ry partSo just, they mock the sculptor's mimic art; 160And golden curls adown my shoulders flow;Nor wants there ought except the lyre and bow.Restor'd to youth, triumphant I repairTo court, to captivate th' admiring fair:My faultless form the Lesbian nymphs adore, 165Avow their flames, weep, sigh, protest, implore.There feel I first the penance of my sin,All spring without, and winter all within!From me the sense of gay desire is fled,And all their charms are cordials to the dead: 170Or if within my breast there chance to riseThe sweet remembrance of the genial joys,Sudden it leaves me, like a transient gleamThat gilds the surface of a freezing stream. 174Mean-time with various pangs my heart is torn,Hate strives with pity, shame contends with scorn.Confus'd with grief, I quit the court, to rangeIn savage wilds, and curse my penal change.The phœnix so, restor'd with rich perfumes,Displays the florid pride of all his plumes, 180Then flies to live amid th' Arabian grove,In barren solitude, a foe to love.But in the calm recess of woods and plainsThe viper Envy revell'd in my veins,And ever when the male caress'd his bride, 185Sighing with rage, I turn'd my eyes aside. In river, mead, and grove, such objects rose,T' avenge the goddess and awake my woes;Fish, beast, and bird, in river, mead, and grove,Bless'd and rever'd the blissful pow'rs of Love. 190What can I do for ease? O! whither fly?Resume my fatal form, ye Gods! I cry:Wither this beauteous bloom, so tempting gay,And let me live transform'd to weak and gray!By change of clime my sorrows to beguile, 195I leave for Sicily my native isle:Vain hope! for who can leave himself behind,And live a thoughtless exile from the mind?Arriving there, amidst a flow'ry plainThat join'd the shore, I view'd a virgin-train, 200Who in soft ditties sung of Acis' flame,And strew'd with annual wreaths his amber stream.Me soon they saw, and, fir'd with pious joy,"He comes, the godlike Acis comes!" they cry:"Fair pride of Neptune's court! indulge our pray'r;"Approach, you 'ave now no Polypheme to fear: 206"Accept our rites: to bind thy brow we bring"These earliest honours of the rosy Spring:"So may thy Galatea still be kind,"As we thy smiling pow'r propitious find! 210"But if—(they read their error in my blush,"For shame, and rage, and scorn, alternate flush)"But if of earthly race, yet kinder prove;"Refuse all other rites but those of Love." That hated word new-stabs my rankling wound;Like a struck deer I startle at the sound; 216Thence to the woods with furious speed repair,And leave them all abandon'd to despair.So, frighted by the swains, to reach the brakeGlides from a sunny bank the glitt'ring snake, 220And whilst, reviv'd in youth, his wavy trainFloats in large spires, and burns along the plain,He darts malignance from his scornful eye,And the young flow'rs with livid hisses die.Let my sad fate your soft compassion move, 225Convinc'd that Phaon would but cannot love:To torture and distract my soul are join'dUnfading youth and impotence of mind.The white and red that flatter on my skinHide hell; the grinning Furies howl within; 230Pride, Envy, Rage, and Hate, inhabit there,And the black child of Guilt, extreme Despair:Nor of less terror to the perjur'd proveThe frowns of Venus than the bolts of Jove.When Orpheus in the woods began to play, 235Sooth'd with his airs the leopards round him lay;Their glaring eyes with lessen'd fury burn'd,But when the lyre was mute their rage return'd:So would thy Muse and lute a while controlMy woes, and tune the discord of my soul, 240In sweet suspense each savage thought restrain'd,And then the love I never felt I feign'd. O Sappho! now that Muse and lute employ;Invoke the golden goddess from the sky:From the Leucadian rock ne'er hope redress; 245In love Apollo boasts no sure success:Let him preside o'er oracles and arts;Venus alone hath balm for bleeding hearts.O! let the warbled hymn^[1] delight her ear;Can she when Sappho sings refuse to hear? 250Thrice let the warbled hymn repeat thy pain,While flow'rs and burning gums perfume her fane:And when, descending to the plaintive sound,She comes confess'd with all her Graces round,O, plead my cause! in that auspicious hour 255Propitiate with thy vows the vengeful pow'r:Nor cease thy suit, till with a smiling airShe cries, "I give thy Phaon to thy pray'r;"And, from his crime absolv'd, with all his charms"He long shall live, and die in Sappho's arms."—Then swift, and gentle as her gentlest dove, 261I'll seek thy breast, and equal all thy love:Hymen shall clap his purple wings, and spreadIncessant raptures o'er the nuptial bed.And while in pomp at Cytherea's shrine 265With choral song and dance our vows we join,Her flaming altar with religious fearI'll touch, and, prostrate on the marble, swearThat zeal and love for ever shall divideMy heart between the goddess and the bride. 270

1. Alluding to her Ode to Venus.