E'en so do I, to wailing all o'er-given,
In plaintive music of Ionian mood,[216]
*Vex the soft cheek on Neilos' banks that bloomed,
And heart that bursts in tears,
And pluck the flowers of lamentations loud,
Not without fear of friends, 70
*Lest none should care to help
This flight of mine from that mist-shrouded shore.