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It is said that the architect, Callimach, passing near the 
tomb of a young maiden who had died a few days before 
the time appointed for her nuptials, moved by tenderness 
and pity, approached to scatter some flowers on her tomb. 
Another tribute to her memory had preceded his. Her 
nurse had collected the flowers which should have decked 
her on her wedding-day; and, putting them with the mar¬ 
riage veil, in a little basket, had placed it near the grave 
upon a plant of acanthus, and then covered it with a tile. 
In the succeeding spring the leaves of the acanthus grew 
round the basket; but, being stayed in their growth by 
the projecting tile, they recoiled and surmounted its ex¬ 
tremities. Callimach, surprised by this rural decoration, 
which seemed the work of the Graces in tears, conceived 
the capital of the Corinthian column, a magnificent orna¬ 
ment, still used and admired by the whole civilized world. 
The roof 
Of thickest covert was inwoven shade; 
Laurel and myrtle, and what higher grew 
Of firm and fragrant leaf; on either side 
Acanthus, and each odorous bushy shrub, 
Fenced up the verdant wall; each beauteous flower, 
Iris all hues, roses, and jessamine, 
Rear’d high their flourish’d heads between, and wrought 
Crocus, and hyacinth, with rich inlay, 
Broider’d the ground, more colour’d than with stone, 
Of costliest emblem. 
lg PARADISE LOST. 
PARADISE DOST. 
