Dapple-throned Aphrodite, eternal daughterf God, snare-knitter! Don't, I beg you, cow my heart with grief! Come, as once when you heard my far- off cry and, listening, stepped from your father's house to your gold car, to yoke the pair whose beautiful thick-feathered wings oaring down mid-air from heaven carried you to light swiftly on dark earth; then, blissful one, smiling your immortal smile you asked, What ailed me now that me me call you again? What was it that my distracted heart most wanted? "Whom has Persuasion to bring round now "to your love? Who, Sappho, is unfair to you? For, let her run, she will soon run after; "if she won't accept gifts, she will one day give them; and if she won't love you -- she soon will "love, although unwillingly..." If ever -- come now! Relieve this intolerable pain! What my heart most hopes will happen, make happen; you your- self join forces on my side!