FRIENDS, whom she look-d at blandly from her couch
And her white wrist above it, gem-bedew-d,
Were arguing with Pentheusa: she had heard
Report of Creon-s death, whom years before
She listen-d to, well-pleas-d; and sighs arose;
For sighs full often fondle with reproofs
And will be fondled by them. When I came
After the rest to visit her, she said,
-Myrtis! how kind! Who better knows than thou
The pangs of love? and my first love was he!�
Tell me (if ever, Eros! are reveal-d
Thy secrets to the earth) have they been true
To any love who speak about the first?
What! shall these holier lights, like twinkling stars
In the few hours assign-d them, change their place,
And, when comes ampler splendor, disappear?
Idler I am, and pardon, not reply,
Implore from thee, thus question-d; well I know
Thou strikest, like Olympian Jove, but once.