XVII.

XVII.

To Epicharmus.

Read these lines to Epicharmus. They are Dorian, as was he The sire of Comedy. Of his proper self bereavèd, Bacchus, unto thee we rear His brazen image here; We in Syracuse who sojourn, elsewhere born. Thus much we can Do for our countryman, Mindful of the debt we owe him. For, possessing ample store Of legendary lore, Many a wholesome word, to pilot youths and maids thro' life, he spake: We honour him for their sake.

XVIII.

Epitaph of Cleita, Nurse of Medeius.

The babe Medeius to his Thracian nurse This stone--inscribed _To Cleita_--reared in the midhighway. Her modest virtues oft shall men rehearse; Who doubts it? is not 'Cleita's worth' a proverb to this day?