Annotations Δεῦρο δηὖτε Μοῖσαι, χρύσιον λίποισαι. HITHER now, Muses ! leaving golden seats. Hither ! Forsake the fresh, inspiring wells, Flee the high mountain lands, the cool retreats Where in the temperate air your influence dwells, Leave your sweet haunts of summer sound and rest, Hither, O maiden choir, and make me blest. Book traversal links for Hither now, Muses ! leaving golden seats. ‹ Preface Up They plaited garlands in their time ›
