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Would Jove appoint some flower to reign, in matchless beauty on the plain,...
neither for me honey nor the honey bee
"Eros the melter of limbs (now again) stirs me -
gathering flowers so very delicate a girl
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"Eros, again now, the loosener of limbs troubles me
"]sing to us
"In fact she herself once blamed me
"their heart grew cold
"yet if you had a desire for good or beautiful things
I've had no problem harnessing anger.
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