I’ve never really read much Greek poetry, but I found myself looking at the Idylls of Theocritus yesterday. The 15th idyll depicts in dialogue form the hustle and bustle at the festival of Adonis — the Adonia — in Alexandria in Ptolemaic times. It ends with a dirge mourning Adonis and looking forward to his resurrection.
Thanks to the wonderful Theoi site the Loeb English translation is here.
GORGO (with her maid Etychis at the door, as the maid Eunoa opens it)
 Praxinoa at home?
PRAXINOA (running forward)
 Dear Gorgo! at last! she is at home. I quite thought you’d forgotten me. (to the maid) Here, Eunoa, a chair of the lady, and a cushion on it.
GORGO (refusing the cushion)
 No, thank you, really.
 Do sit down.
 O what a silly I was to come! What with the crush and the horses, Praxinoa, I’ve scarcely got here alive. It’s all big boots and people in uniform. And the street was never-ending, and you can’t think how far your house is along it.
Do read it.
I love the kind of works that give you a real impression of the ancient world — the letters of Cicero, or Pliny the Younger; and Martial and Juvenal. Indeed I wish I had more of them. I had hopes of Aulus Gellius’ Attic Nights, but somehow it didn’t work for me.