Would I were a pink rose, that fastening me with thine hands thou mightest grant me grace of thy snowy breast. XLIII LILY THEOPHANES Would I were a white lily, that fastening me with thine hands thou mightest satisfy me with the nearness of thy body. XLIV LOVE AND SLEEP MELEAGER Thou sleepest, Zenophile, dainty girl; would that I had come to thee now, a wingless sleep, upon thine eyelids, that not even he, even he who charms the eyes of Zeus, might come nigh thee, but myself had held thee, I thee alone. XLV SLAYER AND HEALER MACEDONIUS I have a wound of love, and from my wound flows ichor of tears, and the gash is never staunched; for I am at my wits' end for misery, and no Machaon sprinkles soothing drugs on me in my need. I am Telephus, O maiden, but be thou my true Achilles; with thy beauty allay the longing as thou didst kindle it. XLVI LOVE THE GAMBLER MELEAGER Still in his mother's lap, a child playing with dice in the morning, Love played my life away. XLVII DRIFTING MELEAGER Bitter wave of Love, and restless gusty Jealousies and wintry sea of revellings, whither am I borne? and the rudders of my spirit are quite cast loose; shall we sight delicate Scylla once again? XLVIII LOVE'S RELAPSES MELEAGER Soul that weepest sore, how is Love's wound that was allayed in thee inflaming through thy heart again! nay, nay, for God's sake, nay for God's sake, O infatuate, stir not the fire that flickers low among the ashes. For soon, O oblivious of thy pains, so sure as Love catches thee in flight, again he will torture his found runaway. XLIX LOVE THE BALL-PLAYER MELEAGER Love who feeds on me is a ball-player, and throws to thee, Heliodora, the heart that throbs in me. Come then, take thou Love-longing for his playmate; but if thou cast me away from thee, I will not bear such wanton false play. L LOVE'S ARROWS MELEAGER Nay by Demo's tresses, nay by Heliodora's sandal, nay by Timarion's scent-dripping doorway, nay by great-eyed Anticleia's dainty smile, nay by Dorothea's fresh-blossomed garlands, no longer, Love, does thy quiver hide its bitter winged arrows, for thy shafts are all fixed in me.