The birds of Stymphalus
Vexed not so the Arcadians,
As those dead thrushes vexed me
With their dry bones,
...
No one, Charidemus,
Can constantly sleep with his own wife
And take heart-felt pleasure in it.
...
She that of old spun with Athene wise, NIcarete,
Hath burned her looms and webs in sacrifice, Cypris, to thee!
'Begone!' she cries, 'ye starveling works that wasted
Our flower in spring,'
...
Niconoe was once in her prime, I admit that,
But her prime was when Deucalion looked on the vast waters.
Of those times we have no knowledge,
But of her now we know that she should seek
...
A handsome old woman
(Who deny it?)
You know she was,
...
The gloom of death is on the raven's wing,
The song of death is in the raven's cries:
But when Demophilus begins to sing,
...
A starry seer's oracular abodes
One sought, to know if he should sail for Rhodes,
When thus the sage, 'I rede thee, let thy ship
...