The Songs of Bilitis: III. Epigrams in the Isle of Cyprus...
Stranger, stop, look who is signalling you: 'tis little Phanion of Kôs, she is well worth your choice.
See, her hair is curled like parsley, her skin is soft as the down of a woodland bird. She is small and brown. And she converses well.
If you should follow her, she would not ask you all your voyage-money; no, just a drachma or a pair of sandals.
You'll find she has a good bed in her house, fresh figs and milk and wine, and if it should be cold there'll be a fire.