Echoes from the Greek Anthology

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Echoes from the Greek Anthology

With two bright eyes, my star, my love,

Thou lookest on the stars above:

Ah, would that I the heaven might be

With a million eyes to look on thee.

A little while the rose,

And after that the thorn;

An hour of dewy morn,

And then the glamour goes.

Ah, love in beauty born,

A little while the rose!

O morning star, farewell!

My love I now must leave;

The hours of day I slowly tell,

And turn to her with the twilight bell⁠—

O welcome, star of eve!

Sweet in summer, cups of snow,

Cooling thirsty lips aglow;

Sweet to sailors winter-bound,

Spring arrives with garlands crowned;

Sweeter yet the hour that covers

With one cloak a pair of lovers,

Living lost in golden weather,

While they talk of love together.

Although you eat me to the root,

I yet shall bear enough of fruit

For wine to sprinkle your dim eyes,

When you are made a sacrifice.

Seven pupils, in the class

Of Professor Callias,

Listen silent while he drawls⁠—

Three are benches, four are walls.