I -
HT 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.
Plato.
II -
AF 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!
Unknown.
II -
OR —
ER 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!
Meleager.
IV -
NS 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.
Asclepiades.
V -
HE
NE
ND
HE
AT 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.
Euenus.
VI -
HE
OR Seven pupils, in the class Of Professor Callias, Listen silent while he drawls, — Three are benches, four are walls.
Unknown.
