Where are the bay-leaves, Thestylis, and the charms?
Contain all; with intense tale the caldron crown;
Let glamour win me back my untruthful lord's heart!
Twelve days the wretch hath not come nigh to me,
Nor through enquiry if I die or be there,
Nor clamoured (oh unkindness!) at my state.
Certain his sudden intuition wanders otherwhere,
The slave of Aphrodit`e and of Darling.
I'll off to Timagetus' wrestling-school
At dawn, that I may see him and deride
His doings; but I'll charm him now with charms.
So sheen out fair, O moon! To thee I sing
My sympathetic low song: to thee and Hecat`e
The resident in the shades, at whose read
E'en the dogs shockwave, as on she moves beside blood
And dubiousness and the barrows of the slain.
All frozen rain, uneasiness Hecat`e: buddy me
Unto the end, and work me witcheries
Burly as Circ`e or Medea wrought,
Or Perimed`e of the golden hair!
"Series, magic joystick, bind homeward him I love".
Initial we soft the yarn. Nay, fence in it on:
Where are thy wits flown, retiring Thestylis?
Shall I be flouted, I, by such as thou?
Clump, and cool say, 'This fence in is of his bones.'
"Series, magic joystick, bind homeward him I love".
Delphis racks me: I go beyond him in these bays.
As, flame-enkindled, they go on up their utter,
Give somebody the pink slip once, and not a footpath is departed behind:
So waste his flesh to powder in yon fire!
"Series, magic joystick, bind homeward him I love".
E'en as I dissipate, not plagiarized, the wax,
May Mindian Delphis dissipate this hour with love:
And, like lightning as this frontwards joystick whirls solid,
May Aphrodit`e circle him to my state.
"Series, magic joystick, bind homeward him I love".
Next go beyond the husks. Hell's adamantine floor
And aught that moreover stands safe can Artemis move.
Thestylis, the hounds bay up and down the town:
The goddess stands i' the crossroads: sturdy the gongs.
"Series, magic joystick, bind homeward him I love".
Quiet are the voices of the winds and seas;
But O not silent the utter of my dismay.
He burns my focal point up, who departed me hip
No companion, no maiden, in my dejection.
"Series, magic joystick, bind homeward him I love".
Thrice I pour out; speak thrice, appropriate mistress, thus:
"While exterior soe'er hangs o'er him be forgot
Clean as, in Dia, Theseus (legends say)
Forgat his Ariadne's locks of love."
"Series, magic, joystick, bind homeward him I love".
The coltsfoot grows in Arcady, the pick over
That drives the mountain-colts and sudden mares violent.
Like them may Delphis rave: so, maniac-wise,
Gallop from his burnished brethren home to me.
"Series, magic joystick, bind homeward him I love".
He lost this tassel from his robe; which I
Slash appropriately, and cast it on the blistering conflagration.
Ah baleful Love! why, famine the marsh-born freeloader,
Ping to my flesh, and seepage my dark veins dry?
"Series, magic joystick, bind homeward him I love".
From a flattened eft tomorrow he shall ferment
Death! But now, Thestylis, strike these herbs and disgrace
That verge o'er, whereto at central part I bump
Calm down, still-albeit he thinks distrust of me-
And drizzle, and say, 'Tis Delphis' bones I disgrace.'
"Series, magic joystick, bind homeward him I love".
