XV.
Another.
Prove, traveller, now, that you honour the brave
Above the poltroon, when he's laid in the grave,
By murmuring 'Peace to Eurymedon dead.'
The turf should lie light on so sacred a head.
XVI.
For a Statue of the Heavenly Aphrodite.
Aphrodite stands here; she of heavenly birth;
Not that base one who's wooed by the children of earth.
'Tis a goddess; bow down. And one blemishless all,
Chrysogone, placed her in Amphicles' hall:
Chrysogone's heart, as her children, was his,
And each year they knew better what happiness is.
For, Queen, at life's outset they made thee their friend;
Religion is policy too in the end.
XVII.
To Epicharmus.
Read these lines to Epicharmus. They are Dorian, as was he
The sire of Comedy.
Of his proper self bereaved, 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?
XIX.
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