from Strabo’s Hortulus
Elelisphakos frontfirst shines his own where,
sweet-smelling, force-full, well-won when dared,
proven in plural man’s wounds to make well;
evergreen earned, ever young may he dwell.
he wears an inward wrong: the younger
yearning flowers, if unbounded, hunger far unfounded—
they linger, longing, long too long; they bleed his branches’ breath, and end his song.