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Eros harrows my heart: wild gales sweeping desolate mountains, uprooting oaks.
Sappho
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Sappho
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Lyric Poet
Poet
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Psappho
Sapphus
Sapho
Oaks
Sweeping
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Wild
Gales
Mountain
Uprooting
Heart
Eros
Gale
Desolate
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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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Without warning as a whirlwind swoops on an oak Love shakes my heart
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Raise high the roof-beam, carpenters. Like Ares comes the bridegroom, taller far than a tall man.
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All the while, believe me, I prayed our night would last twice as long.
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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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For some the fairest thing on the dark earth is Thermopylae, And the Spartan phalanx lowering lances to die.
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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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Death must be an evil and the gods agree for why else would they live for ever?
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Dancing up the full moon Round some fair new altar Trample the soft blossoms of fine grass.
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Beauty endures only for as long as it can be seen goodness, beautiful today, will remain so tomorrow.
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From all the offspring of the earth and heaven love is the most precious.
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Mere air, these words, but delicious to hear.
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