ve poetess, and twelve epigrams attributed to
her are found in the Anthology. Her poetry was symbolized by the
_fleur-de-lis_ with its penetrating perfume. In praising the portrait of
her child she sees the reflection of her own beauty, and in the epitaph
which she composed for her tomb she declares herself equal to Sappho;
hence humility cannot be classed among the many virtues which caused her
to be adored by her contemporaries.

The little poems of Anyte of Tegea and Moero of Byzantium, the last two
of the Terrestrial Nine, are often symbolized by the lilies for their
purity and delicacy. These poets flourished in the third century of our
era. Antipater surnames Anyte "a feminine Homer"; rather should she be
called "a feminine Simonides," though even this is too high praise. Her
soul was simple and pure, and her sweet sentiments are reflected in a
style as limpid as a running stream. Charm and freshness characterize
her invitation to some passer-by to repose under the trees and taste of
the cool water; deep and melancholy emotions pervade the poem in which
she bewails the death of a young maiden; and a masculine philosophy of
life is manifest in the epitaph of a slave whom death has made equal
with the Great King. Moero's range was not so great, nor her touch so
delicate. A heroic poem, _Mnemosyne_, was the most ambitious of her
works; she also composed elegies and epigrams, and two of the latter
have been preserved to us, revealing a soul sensitive to natural beauty.

Here and there, other names and occasional verses of Greek poetesses are
found--Cleobuline of Rhodes, Megalostrata and Clitagora, of Sparta, and
others; but they did not attain the fame of the Terrestrial Muses.

As the verses of the Greek women were to be sung to the accompaniment of
the lyre, the daughters of the Muses were as celebrated in music as they
were in poetry. Nor were the maidens of Greece without distinction in
other arts. It is in part to a Corinthian maiden that legend ascribes
the invention of modelling in clay. Cora, daughter of Butades, is about
to say farewell--perhaps forever--to her lover, who is going on a long
journey. The light of a lamp throws his shadow on the wall, and, to
preserve at least this image of him, she deftly sketches the outline of
the shadow. Her father, with the instinct of an artist, observes the
outline and fills it in with potter's clay, and then bakes the model
which he has obtained. There are no names rec