Book V, 172

Way dost thou, Morning Star, the foe of love, look down on my bed so early, just as I lie warm in dear Demo’s arms? Would that thou couldst reverse thy swift course and be the Star of Eve again, thou whose sweet rays fall on me most bitter. Once of old, when he lay with Alemena, thou didst turn back in sight of Zeus; thou art not unpractised in returning on thy track.