The words of song, its music, too,

Did Sappho lift to heights a-new.

Her intertwined melodic vowels,

Her consonants in smoothest flow,

With lust of lovelight on the prowl

For tend’rest passion’s overflow,

Was such a sweet, sweet thing divine

That all the earth proclaimed it, “Mine!”

But only she, and she alone,

Could raise to life such lovely tone.

Yea, only she, first singer pure,

Could sing the loves that long endure.

So l, l praise the ever true—

First Singer who is always new!

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