I know that I am mortal, and ephemeral; but when I scan the multitudinous circling spirals of the stars, no longer do I touch earth with my feet, but sit with Zeus himself, and take my fill of the ambrosial food of gods.
XXXIV THE PASTORAL POETS ARTEMIDORUS
The pastoral Muses, once scattered, now are all a single flock in a single fold.
XXXV ON A RELIEF OF EROS AND ANTEROS AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Nemesis fashioned a winged Love contrary to winged Love, warding off bow with bow, that he may be done by as he did; and, bold and fearless before, he sheds tears, having tasted of the bitter arrows, and spits thrice into his low-girt bosom. Ah, most wonderful! one will burn with fire: Love has set Love aflame.
XXXVI ON A LOVE BREAKING THE THUNDERBOLT AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Lo, how winged Love breaks the winged thunderbolt, showing that he is a fire more potent than fire.
XXXVII ON A LOVE PLOUGHING MOSCHUS
Laying down his torch and bow, soft Love took the rod of an ox-driver, and wore a wallet over his shoulder; and coupling patient-necked bulls under his yoke, sowed the wheat-bearing furrow of Demeter; and spoke, looking up, to Zeus himself, "Fill thou the corn-lands, lest I put thee, bull of Europa, under my plough."