Sappho and Phaon: Sonnet XLI

Oh ! can'st thou bear to see this faded frame,
Deform'd and mangled by the rocky deep ?
Wilt thou remember, and forbear to weep,
My fatal fondness, and my peerless fame ?
Soon o'er this heart, now warm with passion's flame,
The howling winds and foamy waves shall sweep ;
Those eyes be ever clos'd in death's cold sleep,
And all of Sappho perish, but her name !
Yet, if the Fates suspend their barb'rous ire,
If days less mournful, Heav'n designs for me !
If rocks grow kind, and winds and waves conspire,
To bear me softly on the swelling sea;
To Phoebus only will I tune my lyre,
" What suits with Sappho, Phoebus, suits with thee !"