Chapter VIII: The Wreath

White violet with the tender-leaved narcissus I will twine,
And the laughing lips of lilies with myrtle blooms combine;
And I will bind the hyacinth, the dark red-purple flower,
With crocus sweet and roses that are the lovers' dower,
To make the wreath that Heliodore's curl-scented brow shall wear,
To strew with falling petals the glory of her hair.