LITMIR.BIZ

      But so insolent an act could not remain unpunished, and Jupiter exiled him from Heaven. While on earth, he loved the nymph Daphne, and Mercury who had invented the lyre, gave it to him that he might the more effectually give vent to his passion. This lyre, was formed of the shell of a tortoise, and composed of seven cords, while to its harmonious tones were raised the walls of Troy. In vain, however, were the sweet sounds of the lyre tuned, to soften Daphne whose affection rested with another, and was insensible to that of Apollo, though he pursued her with fervour for a year. Daphne, still inexorable, was compelled to yield to the fatigue which oppressed her, when the Gods, at her entreaty, changed her into a laurel. Apollo took a branch and formed it into a crown, and to this day the laurel remains one of the attributes of the God. The leaves of this tree are believed to possess the property of preserving from thunder, and of making dreams an image of reality to those who place it beneath their pillow.

      ——————————"Her feet she found

      Benumbed with cold, and fastened to the ground,

      A filmy rind about her body grows,

      Her hair to leaves, her arms extend to boughs,

      The nymph is all into a laurel gone,

      The smoothness of her skin remains alone;

      To whom the God: "Because thou canst not be

      My mistress, I espouse thee for my tree;

      Be thou the prize of honour and renown,

      The deathless poet and the poem crown!

      Thou shalt the Roman festivals adorn,

      And after poets, be by victors worn!

      Thou shalt returning Cæsar's triumph grace,

      When pomp shall in a long procession pass;

      Wreathed on the posts before his palace wait,

      And be the sacred guardian of the gate;

      Secure from thunder and unharmed by Jove,

      Unfading as the immortal powers above;

      And as the locks of Phœbus are unshorn

      So shall perpetual green thy boughs adorn."

      Ovid.

      However earnest Apollo might have been in his pursuit of Daphne, he did not long remain inconsolable, but formed a tender attachment for Leucothoe, daughter of king Orchamus, and to introduce himself with greater facility, he assumed the shape and features of her mother. Their happiness was complete, when Clytie, her sister, who was enamoured of the God, and was jealous of his amours with Leucothoe, discovered the whole intrigue to her father, who ordered his daughter to be buried alive. Apollo passing by accident over the tomb which contained her, heard her last melancholy cries, but unable to save her from death, he sprinkled nectar and ambrosia over her tomb, which penetrating as far as the body, changed it into the beautiful tree that bears the frankincense; while the unhappy Clytie, tormented by remorse, and disdained by the God, was changed into a sunflower, the plant which turns itself without ceasing, towards its deity, the sun.

      "On the bare earth she lies, her bosom bare,

      Loose her attire, dishevelled is her hair;

      Nine times the morn unbarred the gates of light,

      As oft were spread the alternate shades of night,

      So long no sustenance the mourner knew,

      Unless she drank her tears, or sucked the dew,

      She turned about, but rose not from the ground,

      Turned to the sun still as he rolled his round;

      On his bright face hung her desiring eyes,

      Till fixed to earth, she strove in vain to rise,

      Her looks their paleness in a flower retained,

      But here and there, some purple streaks they gained.

      Still the loved object the fond leaves pursue,

      Still move their root, the moving sun to view

      And in the Heliotrope the nymph is true."

      Ovid.

      These unhappy endeavours of Apollo, determined him to take refuge in friendship, and he attached himself to the young Hyacinth;

      ——"Hyacinth, long since a fair youth seen,

      Whose tuneful voice turned fragrance in his breath,

      Kissed by sad Zephyr, guilty of his death."

      Hood.

      But misfortune appeared to cling to all who were favoured by Apollo, for as they played at quoits with Zephyr, the latter fired by jealousy, blew the quoit of Apollo on the forehead of the unhappy mortal, who fell dead upon the green turf on which they were playing; while his blood sinking into the ground, produced the

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