THE

THE LAST HOUR OF SAPPHO.

PROMONTORY OF LEUCA DIA.

"This is the spot;-'tis here, tradition says,

That hopeless love from this high towering rock

Leaped headlong to oblivion, or to death.

Oh, 'tis a giddy height! my dizzy koad

Swims at the precipice!-'tis death to fall."

I.

THE sun was sinking from soft Hellas' shore,
Yet lingering still, as if he loved to pour
His beams o'er towers and temples then sublime,
But mouldering now beneath the tooth of Time;
To kiss the sloping hills, and myrtle boughs,

And flowers, and streams, and Lesbian maidens' brows,

As they were warbling 'long the sultry vale

Like blithesome birds, or lisping some love tale:
Slowly he sank, while far the deep waves rolled
Beneath his fiery track like molten gold;

THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY

ASTOR, LENOX AND TILDEN FOUNDATIONS.