With these words he tore the white hair from his
trembling head, and rent his cheeks; his eyes filled with tears, and as the
impetuous river sweeps down the valleys when the cold snow has perished, and the
gentle south-wind will not suffer the ice to live on the unfettered earth, so was
his face wet with a full stream, and his heart rang with the troubled murmur of deep
Petronius Arbiter. Petronius. Michael Heseltine. London. William Heinemann. 1913.
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