XII

Hedulia now lies with Myrrhine who aforetime was my lover,

But seeing Hedulia she forgot me, and I lie on the threshold weeping.

O marble threshold, thou are not so white nor so hard as her breasts, receive my tears

While the mute stars turn overhead and the owls cry from the cypresses.

Wandering in tears about the city I came to the dark temple of Priapus;

The tall, naked, scented-tressed priestesses taught me the mysteries,

And I lay between Guathina and Leuke and afterwards Chrusea and Anthea;

But now I worship the god on the mountain slopes, yet not unforgetful of Myrrhine.