Evermore in my ears eddies the sound of Love, and my eye silently
carries sweet tears for the Desires; nor does night nor light let me
rest, but already my enchanted heart bears the well-known imprint. Ah
winged Loves, surely you know how to fly towards me, but have no whit
of strength to fly away.


XII
LOVE'S DRINK
MELEAGER

The cup is glad for sweetness, and says that it touches the sweet-
voiced mouth of love's darling, Zenophile. Happy! would that now,
bringing up her lips to my lips, she would drink at one draught the
very soul in me.


XIII
LOVE THE RUNAWAY
MELEAGER

I make hue and cry after wild Love; for now, even now in the morning
dusk, he flew away from his bed and was gone. This boy is full of
sweet tears, ever talking, swift, fearless, sly-laughing, winged on
the back, and carries a quiver. But whose son he is I may not say, for
Heaven denies having borne this ruffler, and so Earth and so Sea.
Everywhere and by all he is hated; but look you to it lest haply even
now he is laying more springes for souls. Yet--there he is, see! about
his lurking-place; I see thee well, my archer, ambushed in Zenophile's
eyes.