O, who would deem at such soft twilight time
Sorrow could rear her throne in that delightful clime.
II.
High on Leucadia’s famed and jutting rock,
Whose rugged base doth scorn the fearful shock
Of ocean’s waves, half-veiled in evening shade,
Sat Lesbian Sappho all for death arrayed:
Around her beauteous form her tunic flung,
And her dark tresses long and flowing hung
Down to the rock, steeped in the briny dew,