The Night Wanderer
O Stars, O Moon shining so beautifully to lovers, O Night and you, small pipe, companion of my feasts, shall I find her still awake in bed, complaining to the lamp? Or has she another beside her?
If so, I will hang upon her door these suppliant wreaths, watered with my tears and I will write on them: " To you, Aphrodite, Meleager, initiate in your mysteries, dedicates these spoils of his love. "
If so, I will hang upon her door these suppliant wreaths, watered with my tears and I will write on them: " To you, Aphrodite, Meleager, initiate in your mysteries, dedicates these spoils of his love. "
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