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- Стр. 737/1366
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Me
,
a
Thoulousian
,
drew
unto
herself
,
Where
I
deserved
to
deck
my
brows
with
myrtle
.
Statius
the
people
name
me
still
on
earth
;
I
sang
of
Thebes
,
and
then
of
great
Achilles
;
But
on
the
way
fell
with
my
second
burden
.
The
seeds
unto
my
ardour
were
the
sparks
Of
that
celestial
flame
which
heated
me
,
Whereby
more
than
a
thousand
have
been
fired
;
Of
the
Aeneid
speak
I
,
which
to
me
A
mother
was
,
and
was
my
nurse
in
song
;
