No longer, poor partridge migrated from the rocks, does thy woven house hold thee in its thin withies, nor under the sparkle of fresh- faced Dawn dost thou ruffle up the edges of thy basking wings; the cat bit off thy head, but the rest of thee I snatched away, and she did not fill her greedy jaw; and now may the earth cover thee not lightly but heavily, lest she drag out thy remains. LVII ON A THESSALIAN HOUND SIMONIDES Surely even as thou liest dead in this tomb I deem the wild beasts yet fear thy white bones, huntress Lycas; and thy valour great Pelion knows, and splendid Ossa and the lonely peaks of Cithaeron. LVIII ON CHARIDAS OF CYRENE CALLIMACHUS Does Charidas in truth sleep beneath thee? If thou meanest the son of Arimmas of Cyrene, beneath me. O Charidas, what of the under world? Great darkness. And what of the resurrection? A lie. And Pluto? A fable; we perish utterly. This my tale to you is true; but if thou wilt have the pleasant one of the Samian, I am a large ox in Hades. LIX ON THEOGNIS OF SINOPE SIMONIDES I am the monument of Theognis of Sinope, over whom Glaucus set me in guerdon of their long fellowship. LX ON A DEAD FRIEND AUTHOR UNKNOWN This little stone, good Sabinus, is the record of our great friendship; ever will I require thee; and thou, if it is permitted, drink not among the dead of the water of Lethe for me. LXI ON AN UNHAPPY MAN AUTHOR UNKNOWN I Dionysius of Tarsus lie here at sixty, having never married; and would that my father had not. LXII ON A CRETAN MERCHANT SIMONIDES I Brotachus of Gortyna, a Cretan, lie here, not having come hither for this, but for traffic. LXIII ON SAON OF ACANTHUS CALLIMACHUS Here Saon, son of Dicon of Acanthus, rests in a holy sleep; say not that the good die. CHAPTER IV LITERATURE AND ART I THE GROVE OF THE MUSES AUTHOR UNKNOWN Say thou that this grave is consecrate to the Muses, pointing to the books by the plane-trees, and that we guard it; and if a true lover of ours come hither, we crown him with our ivy. II THE VOICE OF THE WORLD ANTIPATER OF SIDON