Текст оригинала на английском языке By Callimachus At morn we placed on his funeral bier Young Melanippus; and, at eventide, Unable to sustain a loss so dear, By her own hand his blooming sister died. Thus Aristippus mourn'd his noble race, Annihilated by a double blow, Nor son could hope nor daughter more to embrace And all Cyrene sadden'd at his woe. |
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