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HIS ADIEUX TO BITHYNIA Now Spring his cooly mildness brings us back, Now th' equinoctial heaven's rage and wrack Hushes at hest of Zephyr's bonny breeze. Far left (Catullus!) be the Phrygian leas And summery Nicaea's fertile downs: Fly we to Asia's fame-illumined towns. Now lust my fluttering thoughts for wayfare long, Now my glad eager feet grow steady, strong. O fare ye well, my comrades, pleasant throng, Ye who together far from homesteads flying, By many various ways come homewards hieing.