Not death is bitter, since that is the fate of all, but to die ere the
time and before our parents: I having seen not marriage nor wedding-
chant nor bridal bed, lie here the love of many, and to be the love of
more.


XXXVII
ON A BOY OF NINETEEN
AUTHOR UNKNOWN

Bidding hail to me, Diogenes beneath the earth, go about thy business
and obtain thy desire; for at nineteen years old I was laid low by
cruel sickness and leave the sweet sun.


XXXVIII
ON A SON, BY HIS MOTHER
DIOTIMUS

What profits it to labour in childbirth? what to bear children? let
not her bear who must see her child's death: for to stripling Bianor
his mother reared the tomb; but it was fitting that the mother should
obtain this service of the son.


XXXIX
ON A GIRL
CALLIMACHUS