She leant upon her harp, and thousands looked
On her in love and wonder-thousands knelt
And worshipp'd in her presence-burning tears,
And words that died in utterance, and a pause
Of breathless, agitated eagerness,
First gave the full heart's homage: then came forth
A shout that rose to heaven; and the hills,
The distant valleys, all rang with the name
Of the Æolian Sappho-every heart
Found in itself some echo to her song.