Sappho and Phaon: Sonnet XXXV

What means the mist opake that veils these eyes;
Why does yon threat'ning tempest shroud the day ?
Why does thy altar, Venus, fade away,
And on my breast the dews of horror rise ?
Phaon is false ! die dim, ye orient skies,
And let black Erebus succeed your ray;
Let clashing thunders roll, and lightnings play ;
Phaon is false ! and hopeless Sappho dies !
"Farewell! my Lesbian love," you might have said,
Such sweet remembrance had some pity prov'd ;
Or coldly thus, " farewell. Oh! Lesbian maid!"
No task severe for one so fondly lov'd !
The gentle thought had sooth'd my wand'ring shade,
From life's dark valley, and its thorns, remov'd!