twelve days, oh cruel, has never come hither, nor knows whether I am
alive or dead, nor has once knocked at my door, unkind that he is!
Hath Love flown off with his light desires by some other path--Love
and Aphrodite? To-morrow I will go to the wrestling school of
Timagetus, to see my love and to reproach him with all the wrong he
is doing me. But now I will bewitch him with my enchantments! Do
thou, Selene, shine clear and fair, for softly, Goddess, to thee will
I sing, and to Hecate of hell. The very whelps shiver before her as
she fares through black blood and across the barrows of the dead.

Hail, awful Hecate! to the end be thou of our company, and make this
medicine of mine no weaker than the spells of Circe, or of Medea, or
of Perimede of the golden hair.

My magic wheel, draw home to me the man I love!

Lo, how the barley grain first smoulders in the fire,--nay, toss on
the barley, Thestylis! Miserable maid, where are thy wits wandering?
Even to thee, wretched that I am, have I become a laughing-stock,
even to thee? Scatter the grain, and cry thus the while, ''Tis the
bones of Delphis I am scattering!'

My magic wheel, draw home to me the man I love!

Delphis troubled me, and I against Delphis am burning this laurel;
and even as it crackles loudly when it has caught the flame, and
suddenly is burned up, and we see not even the dust thereof, lo, even
thus may the flesh of Delphis waste in the burning!

My magic wheel, draw home to me the man I love!