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FROM THE GARDEN OF HELLAS.
EPIGRAMS
FROM THE PALATINE ANTHOLOGY.
MELEAGER.
Book V., Epigram 57.
That butter-fly, my soul, if thou wouldst burn,
O cruel Love! too often with thy flame,
Itself has wings to fly and ne'er return.
Book V., Epigram 136.
Pour to the health of Heliodora, pour
Again to Heliodora, and once more.
Her sweet name mingling with each cup of wine.
From flowers of yesterday a garland twine
Dewy with perfumes to her memory.
Love's roses weep that she is not with me!
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