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Γλύκεια μᾶτερ, οὔ τοι δύναμαι κρέκην τὸν ἴστον,
πόθῳ δάμεισα παῖδοσ βραδίναν δἰ Ἀφρόδιταν. [transcription]

My sweet mother, broken by soft Aphrodite's spell, longing for a youth, I can no more weave the cloth.

My sweet mother! Fair Aphrodite's spell
Has from me sense and reason all bereft,
And, yearning for that dear beloved youth,
No longer can I see the warp or weft.

Quoted by Hephaestion as an example of metre.