Lydia, by all above,
- bear so hard on Sybaris, to ruin him with love? What change has made him shun
- playing-ground, who once so well could bear the dust and sun? Why does he never sit
On horseback in his company, nor with uneven bit
His Gallic courser tame?
- dreads he yellow Tiber, as 'twould sully that fair frame? Like poison loathes the oil,
- arms no longer black and blue with honourable toil, He who erewhile was known
- quoit or javelin oft and oft beyond the limit thrown? Why skulks he, as they say
- Thetis' son before the dawn of Ilion's fatal day, For fear the manly dress
Should fling him into danger's arms, amid the Lycian press?
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