TRANSLATION
Reading edition
OF A RECENTLY DISCOVERED FRAGMENT[1] OF A POEM BY SAPPHO.
———
BY G. HILL.
———
Thou’rt like the apple—maiden young and fair—
That sees its fellows gathered, one by one,
While, on the topmost bough, though ripe and rare,
It unmolested sits and blooms alone:
Forgotten? No—a mark for every eye,
But for the gazer’s longing hand too high.