The Defense

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 as Catullus says, after the filthy fashion in vogue among the Iberians.

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 What is there so lascivious in all my verses compared with that one line? I will say nothing of the writings of Diogenes the Cynic, of Zeno the founde

 Now let me read you the others also which they read last as being the most intemperate in expression.

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 There is another poem by Plato dealing conjointly with the boys Alexis and Phaedrus:

 Without citing any further examples I will conclude by quoting a line addressed by Plato to Dion of Syracuse:

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 The divine Hadrian, when he honoured the tomb of his friend the poet Voconius with an inscription in verse from his own pen, wrote thus:

 words which he would never have written had he regarded verse of somewhat too lively a wit as proving their author to be a man of immoral life. I reme

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 The lines which follow are so wonderful, that had you read them you would envy me my wallet even more than you envy me my marriage with Pudentilla.

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 But you who take such exception to fish attribute far different instruments to magicians, charms not to be torn from new-born foreheads, but to be cut

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 Similarly in another passage he says:

 But never in the works of Homer did Proteus anoint his face nor Ulysses his magic trench, nor Aeolus his windbags, nor Helen her mixing bowl, nor Circ

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 He glorified many fish in other verses, stating where each was to be found and whether they were best fried or stewed, and yet he is not blamed for it

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 These words, which I have quoted in Greek, have been selected by Rufinus and separated from their context. He has taken them round as a confession on

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Now let me read you the others also which they read last as being the most intemperate in expression.

I lay these garlands, Critias sweet,

and this my song before thy feet;

song to thyself I dedicate,

wreaths to the Angel of thy fate.

The song I send to hymn the praise

of this, the best of all glad days,

whereon the circling seasons bring

the glory of thy fourteenth spring;

the garlands, that thy brows may shine

with splendour worthy spring's and thine,

that thou in boyhood's golden hours

mayst deck the flower of life with flowers.

Wherefore for these bright blooms of spring

thy springtide sweet surrendering,

the tribute of my love repay

and all my gifts with thine outweigh.

Surpass the twined garland's grace

with arms entwined in soft embrace;

the crimson of the rose eclipse

with kisses from thy rosy lips.

Or if thou wilt, be this my meed

and breathe thy soul into the reed; \u00a1!

then shall my songs be shamed and mute

before the music of thy flute.