The roses, borne on their leaves as on wings, have made haste to come to you.
Receive them kindly, either as mementos of Adonis or as tinct of Aphrodite or as eyes of the earth. Yes, a wreath of wild olives becomes an athlete, a tiara worn upright the Great King, and a helmet crest a soldier; but roses become a beautiful boy, both because of affinity of fragrance and because of their distinctive hue.
You will not wear the roses: they will wear you.
~FLAVIUS PHILOSTRATOS, To a handsome boy 3rd century AD
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