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SAPPHO AND PHAON: 38. TO A SIGH by MARY DARBY ROBINSON

First Line: OH SIGH! THOU STEAL'ST, THE HERALD OF THE BREAST
Last Line: AND SHE WHO FLIES THE LOVER, -- CHAINS THE SOUL!

Oh Sigh! thou steal'st, the herald of the breast,
The lover's fears, the lover's pangs to tell;
Thou bid'st with timid grace the bosom swell,
Cheating the day of joy, the night of rest!
Oh! lucid tears! with eloquence confessed,
Why on my fading cheek unheeded dwell,
Meek, as the dew-drops on the flowret's bell
By ruthless tempests to the green sod pressed.
Fond sigh be hushed! congeal, O! slighted tear!
Thy feeble powers the busy Fates control!
Or if thy crystal streams again appear,
Let them, like Lethe's, to oblivion roll:
For Love the tyrant plays, when hope is near,
And she who flies the lover, -- chains the soul!



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