About the twelfth hour she perceived, in the depths of the sycamore trees, a blind old man with one hand resting on the shoulder of a child who walked before him, while with the other he carried a kind of Cithara of black wood against his hip.
"Salammbo"
Gustave Flaubert
The moon rose; then the Cithara and the flute began to play together.
"Salammbo"
Gustave Flaubert
7 and 8. "Hactenus" and "A Thousand Lines," most whereof are in my "Cithara" and Miscellaneous Poems.
"My Life as an Author"
Martin Farquhar Tupper