{"collection":"Classics","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/cla/saph/sap/sap21.htm","path":"cla/saph/sap/sap21.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/cla/saph/sap/sap21.htm","text":"Sappho and Phaon, by Mary Robinson, [1796]\nWhy art thou chang\u2019d? O Phaon! tell me why?\n Love flies reproach, when passion feels decay;\n Or, I would paint the raptures of that day,\n When, in sweet converse, mingling sigh with sigh,\n I mark\u2019d the graceful languor of thine eye\n As on a shady bank entranc\u2019d we lay:\n O! Eyes! whose beamy radiance stole away\n As stars fade trembling from the burning sky!\n Why art thou chang\u2019d? dear source of all my woes!\n Though dark my bosom\u2019s tint, through ev\u2019ry vein\n A ruby tide of purest lustre flows,\n Warm\u2019d by thy love, or chill\u2019d by thy disdain;\n And yet no bliss this sensate Being knows;\n Ah! why is rapture so allied to pain?","title":"Sappho and Phaon: XVIII. To Phaon.","type":"page"}