But if you cast my words unto the wind, Or piqued to anger murmur in your mind, 66 Why dost thou trouble me?' I for thy sake, And thy much scorn, myself will straight betake, Where the gold apples their sweet fragrance spread, To Cerberus, the keeper of the dead. Then freed from love, and all its anxious pain, E'en at thy call, I could not come again. IDYL XXX. THE DEATH OF ADONIS. CYPRIS, when she saw Adonis All the wood where he was lying, Struck behind and made him go. Path of fear they made him tread— Him the goddess thus addrest: "Of all beasts thou wickedest! Thou didst thou this white thigh tear? Didst thou smite my husband dear?” Fearfully, then, answered he: "Cypris! I do swear to thee By thyself and husband dear, By the very bonds I wear, I was mad a kiss to press On the naked loveliness: But my long tusk pierced the boy : Tusks that worse than useless prove What had they to do with love? Cypris! cut my lips away— |