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MELEAGER.
Book V., Epigram 139.

By the god Pan of Arcady I vow
Sweet is thy singing, Zenophil, and thou
Sweetly can'st play the lyre.—Where can I flee
From all thy various charms besieging me?
Not for a moment will they let me rest.
Now 'tis thy slender form in beauty drest,
Now 'tis thy voice, thy grace. What do I say?
It is thyself for whom I burn alway!


Book V., Epigram 141.

Yes, I call on Love to witness,

I would rather lend my ear

To the voice of Heliodora

Than Apollo's music hear!