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PAUL THE SILENTIARY.
Book V,, Epigram 230.
With one hair from her head did Doris tie
My hands, her captive I! —
I laughed aloud, so easy 't seemed at first
The golden thread to burst,
But when I find not all my strength can tear
Sweet Doris' single hair
From off my fettered hands, unfortunate
I groan my bitter fate,
Since evermore this hair the chain shall be
By which she leadeth me.
