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To me the Muses truly gave / An envied and a happy lot: / E'en when I lie within the grave, / I cannot, shall not, be forgot.
Sappho
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Sappho
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Psappho
Sapphus
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Now the Earth with many flowers puts on her spring embroidery
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He who is fair to look upon is good, and he who is good will soon be fair also.
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May I write words more naked than flesh, stronger than bone, more resilient than sinew, sensitive than nerve.
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Would Jove appoint some flower to reign, in matchless beauty on the plain, the Rose (mankind will all agree). The Rose the queen of flowers should be.
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I would not think to touch the sky with two arms
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Although only breath, words which I command are immortal.
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Without warning as a whirlwind swoops on an oak Love shakes my heart
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The Moon and Pleiades have set, / Midnight is nigh, / The time is passing, passing, yet / Alone I lie.
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Death must be an evil and the gods agree for why else would they live for ever?
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Whatever one loves most is beautiful.
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From all the offspring of the earth and heaven love is the most precious.
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Death is an evil the gods have so judged had it been good, they would die.
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All the while, believe me, I prayed our night would last twice as long.
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Experience shows us Wealth unchaperoned by Virtue is never an innocuous neighbor.
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I do not know what to do, my mind's in two.
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Eros harrows my heart: wild gales sweeping desolate mountains, uprooting oaks.
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No honey for me, if it comes with a bee.
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