Book VII, 207

I was a swift-footed long-eared leveret, torn from my mother’s breast while yet a baby, and sweet Phanion cherished and reared me in her bosom, feeding me on flowers of spring: No longer did I pine for my mother, but I died of surfeiting, fattened by too many banquets. Close to her couch she buried me so that ever in her dreams she might see my grave beside her bed.