Original Poems and Translations | ||
140
ON MENANDER.
On thy sweet lips the bees in clusters hung,And dropp'd Hyblæan honey on thy tongue:
For thee the Muses pluck'd Pierian flowers;
The Graces woo'd thee in sequester'd bowers:
Ages to come shall celebrate thy name,
And Athens gather glory from thy fame.
Original Poems and Translations | ||