Author James Whitall I, Priapos, stand guard over these two roads, and my mace is ready to strike. Theokritos, who placed me here, knew my watchfulness. Keep away, O thief, lest you weep with the pain of my blows. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments