And in their hair the Hours' choicest gifts
They wore, the flowering, fragrant rose,
The loveliest foster-child of spring.
And in his Thyestes he says—
The brilliant rose, and modest snow-white lily.
And in his Minyæ he says—
There was full many a store of Venus to view,
Dark in the rich flowers in due season ripe.
89. Now there have been many women celebrated for their beauty (for, as Euripides says—
E'en an old bard may sing of memory)