Μη συ γ' επ' οιονομοιο περιπλεον ιλυος ὡδε
Τουτο χαραδραιης θερμον, ὁδιτα', πιης·
Αλλα μολων μαλα τυτθον ὑπερ δαμαληβοτον ακραν,
Κεισε γε παρ' κεινα ποιμενια πιτυι,
Ἑυρησεις κελαρυζον ευκρηνου δια πετρης
Ναμα, Βορειαιης ψυχροτερον νιφαδος.
O, traveller! taste not of this muddy fount,
In which the weary flock and herds recline,
For farther on, upon yon verdant mount,
And 'neath the branches of a lofty pine,
From out a rock a sparkling fountain flows
With waters colder than the Northern snows.
And, again, here are a few lines, by the fair Anyte, simple indeed, but graceful and pleasing:
Ἱζευ ἁπας ὑπο τασδε δαφνας. κ. τ. λ.
Recline beneath this laurel's verdure sweet,
And taste the waters of this crystal spring;
Here rest thy limbs, unnerved by summer's heat,
Refreshed, the while, by zephyr's whispering.
And yet another, by an author whose name has been forgotten:
Ερχεο και κατ εμαν. κ. τ. λ.
Come, wearied traveller, here recline
Beneath this dark o'erarching pine,
Whose waving sprays, with sighing sweet,
Joy the passing winds to greet.
List to the soft and silvery sound,
My falling waters scatter round.
Its murmur, low reëchoing,
Repose to thee will quickly bring.
The whole has an air of quiet yet musical repose that makes us almost fancy we hear the plashing of the falling waters.