A stern foe to the Demos, I trow.—J. A. St. John.
Stesichorus. (Book iii. § 21, p. 136.)
Many a yellow quince was there
Piled upon the regal chair,
Many a verdant myrtle-bough,
Many a rose-crown featly wreathed,
With twisted violets that grow
Where the breath of spring has breathed. —J. A. St. John.