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Would that I could go to Cyprus, the island of Aphrodite, where the Loves, who soothe  mortals' hearts, dwell, and to Paphos, fertilized without rain by the streams of a foreign river flowing with a hundred mouths. Lead me there, Bromius, Bromius, god of joy who leads the Bacchae,  to Pieria, beautiful seat of the Muses, the holy slope of Olympus. There are the Graces, there is Desire; there it is  lawful for the Bacchae to celebrate their rites.
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