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| | Ovid: Metamorphoses |
 | | Her arms, her back, her shoulders, and her side, Her swelling breasts in little currents glide, A silver liquor only now remains Within the channel of her purple veins; Nothing to fill love's grasp; her husband chaste Bathes in that bosom he before embrac'd. |
 | | He left him thus; but had no sooner left, Than Perseus in revenge his nostrils cleft; From his friend's breast the murd'ring dart he drew, And the same weapon at the murderer threw; His head in halves the darted javelin cut, And on each side the brain came issuing out. |
 | | Perseus begirt, from all around they pour Their lances on him, a tempestuous show'r, Aim'd all at him; a cloud of darts, and spears, Or blind his eyes, or whistle round his ears. |
| dante.ilt.columbia.edu /books/metamor/05.html (313 words) |
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