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BALAUSTION'S ADVENTURE.
Love! For my hate is she who bore me, now;And him I hate, my father: loving-onesTruly, in word not deed! But thou didst payAll dearest to thee down, and buy my life,Saving me so! Is there not cause enoughThat I who part with such companionshipIn thee, should make my moan? I moan, and more:For I will end the feastings—social flowO' the wine friends flock for, garlands and the MuseThat graced my dwelling. Never now for meTo touch the lyre, to lift my soul in songAt summons of the Lybian flute; since thouFrom out my life hast emptied all the joy!And this thy body, in thy likeness wroughtBy some wise hand of the artificers,Shall lie disposed within my marriage-bed:This I will fall on, this enfold about,Call by thy name,—my dear wife in my arms
