Spare me,” I cried, “for my Pygmalion.
A little longer for Pygmalion!
Oh, take me not so early from my love;
Oh, let me see him once—but once again!”
But no—they heard me not, for they are good,
And had they heard, must needs have pitied me;
They had not seen thee, and they did not know
The happiness that I must leave behind.
I fell upon thy couch (To Myrine); my eyelids closed;
My senses faded from me one by one;