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“Away, thou evil-spoken, misformed God!
Who thief-like crouched and slyly watched to gloat
In stolen espial on my quietude.
Swine that crunch acorns and that grunt are tuned
As much to clemency and tender care
For purity of earthly maid or nymph
As thou art, God of goats insatiate!
Know thou this beauty, that excites thy hope
To hateful grinning leer, shall never know

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The touch of even an Olympian God,
Nay, not if mighty Zeus himself should smile,
To thwart Silenus, who commands my love.”