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Adonis AGATHIAS ANTIPATER ANTIPATER OF THESSALONICA Aphrodite ASCLEPIADES AUTHOR UNKNOWN aXXa beauteous beauty Bethink thee bid thee move Bion breath bring CALLIMACHUS cast charms cruel Cypris dead Delphis Dorian dost Draw home dread e'en in death earth ERINNA Eunoe Eutychides fair Fate fiev fioi firj Gorgo dear grave Greek Greek Anthology hast hate heart honey ifiol iirl irapa iravra irore irov itov kiss Lady Moon lament lips LOVE'S lover Mackail magic wheel maid MARCUS ARGENTARIUS MELEAGER MOSCHUS mourn ne'er NICARCHUS Ocean's ovBev PALLADAS Paphian PAULUS SILENTIARIUS Perchance PHILODEMUS Prax Praxinoe PRAXITELES rrjv sailor scorn Shine Sicilian Muses silvery sing song sorrow soul sweet tears Theocritus thine thou did'st tomb tovto translations ttjv Venus virep weep whence whilst youth Zeus
Page 189 - Bethink thee of my love, and whence it came, My Lady Moon !
Page 169 - THE bark of life puts out from port, We hoist the mast and trim the sail, Under the summer sky we sport, At times we feel the wintry gale. We know not where our lot is cast, Our pilot, Chance, may wreck or save ; Whate'er betide, the voyage past, All cast their
Page 148 - I LOVED, I played, I drank my wine In youth's brief blithesome hour of gladness. Who has not heard the voice divine Inviting joy akin to madness ? Alas, 'tis o'er ! My wrinkled brow Comes, like the warning of a sage, To say that pleasure's past, and now My thoughts
Page 188 - in the race." Bethink thee of my love, and whence it came, My Lady Moon
Page 187 - Bethink thee of my love, and whence it came, My Lady Moon ! Then
Page 187 - Bethink thee of my love, and whence it came, My Lady Moon ! I
Page 137 - THE patient surely had been lame for life, So Scalpel, pitying, killed him with his knife.
Page 189 - Bethink thee of my love, and whence it came, My Lady Moon
Page 54 - No matter who I was ; but may the sea To you prove kindlier than it was to me.
Page 155 - Tossed hither as a waif from out the deep, Even in death must hearken to the roar Of the remorseless sea, that knows not sleep. The stranger laid me in my narrow grave By the surf-beaten reef, and midst the dead, Ever I hear the cruel, ceaseless wave Rumbling its hated thunder o'er my head.