“Now shivering at her gates the wretch appears, And myrtle garlands on the columns rears, Wet with a deluge of unbidden tears. The nymph, more hard than rocks, more deaf than seas, Derides his prayers, insults his agonies; Arraigns of insolence the aspiring swain, And takes a cruel pleasure in his pain. Resolved at last to finish his despair, He thus upbraids the inexorable fair:

“ ‘Oh, Anaxarete, at last forget The license of a passion indiscreet. Now triumph, since a welcome sacrifice Your slave prepares to offer to your eyes. My life, without reluctance, I resign; That present best can please a pride like thine. But, oh! forbear to blast a flame so bright, Doom’d never to expire but with the light. And you, great powers, do justice to my name; The hours, you take from life, restore to fame.’