Work-Book

1 T-III|    and nard with my bones,~bury them in ground near the
2   ExI| told.~I wish to be able to bury my own ashes.~So speak your
3  IBIS| sand driven by south winds bury your face.~Like those killed
4  IBIS| may that artisan, the bee, bury his venomous ~sting in your
5  IBIS|    pounded.~And may Apollo bury you in Tartarus’s depths
6   Ind|  of the matter, wishing to bury knowledge of his ruin himself.~