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5τοὔνεκα μηρύσασθε διάβροχα πείσματα ναῦται, ἕλκετε δ᾿ ἀγκύρας φωλάδας ἐκ λιμένων· λαίφεα δ᾿ εὐυφέα προτονίζετε. ταῦθ᾿ ὁ Πρίηπος ὔμμιν ἐνορμίτας παῖς ἐνέπω Βρομίου.

3.—ΑΔΗΛΟΝ

Εἰς ἀΐδην ἰθεῖα κατήλυσις, εἴτ᾿ ἀπ᾿ Ἀθηνῶν στείχοις, εἴτε νέκυς νίσεαι ἐκ Μερόης. μὴ σέ γ᾿ ἀνιάτω πάτρης ἀποτῆλε θανόντα· πάντοθεν εἷς ὁ φέρων εἰς ἀΐδην ἄνεμος.

J. A. Symonds, M.D.,

4.—ΜΑΡΚΟΥ ΑΡΓΕΝΤΑΡΙΟΥ

Λῦσον ἀπ᾿ εὐόρμων δολιχὰ πρυμνήσια νηῶν, εὔτροχα δ᾿ ἐκπετάσας λαίφεα ποντοπόρει, ἔμπορε· χειμῶνες γὰρ ἀπέδραμον, ἄρτι δὲ κῦμα γλαυκὸν θηλύνει πρηΰγελως Ζέφυρος· 5ἤδη καὶ φιλότεκνος ὑπὸ τραυλοῖσι χελιδὼν χείλεσι καρφίτην πηλοδομεῖ θάλαμον· ἄνθεα δ᾿ ἀντέλλουσι κατὰ χθόνα· τῷ σὺ Πριήπῳ πειθόμενος πάσης ἅπτεο ναυτιλίης.

5.—ΘΥΙΛΛΟΥ

Ἤδη πηλοδομεῦσι χελιδόνες, ἤδη ἀν᾿ οἶδμα κολποῦται μαλακὰς εἰς ὀθόνας Ζέφυρος· ἤδη καὶ λειμῶνες ὑπὲρ πετάλων ἐχέαντο ἄνθεα, καὶ τρηχὺς σῖγα μέμυκε πόρος. 5σχοίνους μηρύεσθε, ἐφ᾿ ὁλκάδα φορτίζεσθε ἀγκύρας, καὶ πᾶν λαῖφος ἔφεσθε κάλοις. ταῦτ᾿ ὔμμιν πλώουσιν ἐπ᾿ ἐμπορίην ὁ Πρίηπος ὁ λιμενορμίτης ναυτιλίην γράφομαι.

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Book X

sailors, coil your wet hawsers and drag the anchors from their nests in the harbour. Haul up your well-woven sails. This is the bidding of me, Priapus of the harbour, the son of Bromius.

3.—Anonymous

The way down to Hades is straight, whether you start from Athens or whether you betake yourself there, when dead, from Meroe. Let it not vex thee to die far from thy country. One fair wind to Hades blows from all lands.1

4.—Marcus Argentarius

Loose the long hawsers from your well-moored ships, and spreading your easily-hoisted sails set to sea, merchant captain. For the storms have taken flight and tenderly laughing Zephyr now makes the blue wave gentle as a girl. Already the swallow, fond parent, is building with its lisping lips its chamber out of mud and straw, and flowers spring up in the land; therefore listen to Priapus and undertake any kind of navigation.

5.—Thyillus

Already the swallows build their mud houses, already on the flood Zephyr is bosomed in the soft sails. Already the meadows shed flowers over their green leaves, and the rough strait closes its lips in silence. Wind up your hawsers and stow the anchors on shipboard, and give all your canvas to the sheets. This is the advice that Priapus of the harbour writes for you who sail the seas seeking merchandise.

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DOI: 10.4159/DLCL.greek_anthology_10.1918