My boy, as long as your cheeks and chin are smooth, I shall never <br /> Cease to praise you, not even if I am fated to die. <br />For you, the giver, it is still honorable, and for me as lover it is not shameful <br /> To ask. But I beseech you, in the name of my parents: <br />Show me respect, my boy, and grant me favor. If in time to come, <br /> Craving in your turn the gift of the violet-crowned <br />Cyprian, you shall approach another, then may the gods <br /> Grant that you meet with just such words as I hear now.<br /><br />Theognis<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fragments-lines-1327-1334/
