Invocations, Pleas, Poeme, Prayers, Hymns and Other Homage to HER:
“What grief is gnawing at your
Sappho, that you invoke me?
What turbulence of yearning lies
So heavy on your breast?
Whom shall I coax into your net,
Which of your darlings’ senses melt?
Who is it dares defy you?
He flees? Good, he shall pursue you.
He spurns this gift? Then let him go.
And if he loves you not,
Soon he shall burn for you, knowing
Oh come, come to me now, ease my pain,
And what my bosom hotly craves
Yourself bestow, my sweet, Yourself
Be my confederate.
Quoted in Myths by Alexander Eliot.