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The Tour

Chapter 7 No.7

Word Count: 1211    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

Eros, hea

foam, great go

look down

madden the go

lest men's heart

art of my lord

o thy

lood that courses

that are heavy w

lips that he sees

love ... take them, b

place where la

h with the dus

win not a glanc

h as ever h

eing, at least

ch me, at leas

his foot; and h

y dust and m

heart that h

lips by hi

the lowly du

tread where

Eros, hea

foam, great go

look down

madden the go

lest men's heart

art of my lord

o thy

with little golden bells, at first soft and hushed, rose throbbing in passion an

, sat the travelling merchants, squatting or lying on mat or rug, listening. Uncle Catullus lay in a hammock and Thrasy

Catullus to the slave, who was sitting on the

my lord," sa

ncle?" said Catull

dare," said

d to call

t Ilia,

ed in the pil

little savage: he wore his Libyan festive garment; a girdle of feathers hung roun

art. "What have you done to yourself? You look like a

jubilantly. "My Lord Lucius lets you know that we are all go

eared upon the threshold. Cora had risen and now c

ased in hose of gold tissue; about his head was an Egyptian coif, like that of a sphinx, with broad, projecting, striped bands, which fell to his shoulders; he glittered with strang

reat sacred gods!" ex

gathered round and, in salaam upon salaam, sho

What is happening? Have you

ple of Serapis. It is the great feast; and Caleb"-he pointed to Caleb stepping forward-"has persuaded me to go this night in state t

le and female, streamed from every side of the diverso

, "goes to Canopus, to the feast of Serapis thrice holy, he goes

imed Uncle Catullus. "Only ... am I to rig myself out li

find everything ready in your cha

For days and days he had been mourning and sobbing and lamenting; he had remained invisible and had eaten nothing ... an

because I feel that I've overloaded my stomach!" mo

s that night. What a surprise! Their lord was no longer sick! It was the great feast! It was the feast of S

, were to deck themselves in festive garb. Ione, the old female slave, who had charge of the harpis

. "Quick, Ione, hand me the poppy-rouge! Here, a stick of antimony! I want a blue vei

as like a young god, he looked like Serapis himself! Ione, I must have a net of gold thread and a d

itters were prepared. He thought only of Ilia. He wanted to wrap himself in the dreaming-veil and to lie on the temple-roof a

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