Epigram

Like when the burning sun doth rise,
And drives the stars from out the skies,
My very soul was turned to flame,
When 'mongst the youths first Thendis came.
And still I burn and Thendis seek,
Though thick the hair upon his cheek.
E'en though the sun of youth shall wane,
To me sole light he'll e'er remain.
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Strato
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