XVI
Δεῦτέ νυν ἄβραι Χάριτες, καλλίκομοί τε Μοῖσαι·
DELICATE Graces, come,
And charm my days,
With purest loveliness and smiles
And gracious ways ;
For what were life without the spell
And mirth that in your presence dwell,
When with linked arms, fresh-blushing, ye
Stray from the Cyprian deity !
Ye fair-haired Muses, come,
And bless my days,
With holy ecstasy and might
Of deathless lays;
For what were life without the glow,
The joy that crowned poets know,
When ye descend your mountain ground,
And wake the cithara's full sound !
