I taught Hero, of Gyara, the swift runner; Swifter far was she than Atalanta, When through clinging fleece of her wind-rippled Garments blushed the glimmer of her limbs. I taught Hero, of Gyara, the swift runner; Lovelier was she than Atalanta, When the straining vision of the suitor Saw her beauty mock impending d**h. I taught Hero, of Gyara, the swift runner, All the singing numbers of Terpander, Metres of Archilochus and Alcman, And my melic verse that glows supreme. I taught Hero, of Gyara, the swift runner, Sapphics with their triple surge of music Melting in the final verse Adonic, Like the foam fall of a spended wave.