I taught Hero, of Gyara, the swift runner;
Swifter far was she than Atalanta,
When through clinging fleece of her wind-rippled
Garments blushed the glimmer of her limbs.
I taught Hero, of Gyara, the swift runner;
Lovelier was she than Atalanta,
When the straining vision of the suitor
Saw her beauty mock impending d**h.
I taught Hero, of Gyara, the swift runner,
All the singing numbers of Terpander,
Metres of Archilochus and Alcman,
And my melic verse that glows supreme.
I taught Hero, of Gyara, the swift runner,
Sapphics with their triple surge of music
Melting in the final verse Adonic,
Like the foam fall of a spended wave.