To Atthis The Inconstant

Fragments 33, 57A, 44, 41, 70, 58 combined. I loved thee, Atthis, — even thee! — Ah, long ago! As Aphrodite's handmaid bright As gold wert thou then in my sight. A very queen of love to me Then didst thou show. Fair gifts I sent thee — 'broidery Of golden thread whose shimmering light Flashed mid the purple on thy knee, A gleam and glow. Then I knew not thine heart aright: But now I know! Thou incarnate false inconstancy — To whom I grow A thing to hate! — thou takest flight On wings of love to — who is she? A rustic wench whose garments flow About her heels ungracefully! O yea, let thy false love requite Andromeda's worship! Take delight In her — thou who from my love's height Hast sunk so low!