whatever was hidden from view he imagined more beautiful still. He followed her; she fled, swifter than the wind, and delayed not a moment at his entreaties "Stay said he, "daughter of Peneus; I am not a foe. Do not fly me as a lamb flies the wolf, or a dove the hawk. It is for love I pursue you. You make me miserable, for fear you should fall and hurt yourself on these stones, and I should be the cause. Pray run slower, and I will follow slower. I am no clown, no rude peasant. Jupiter(Zeus)is my father, and I am lord of Delphos and Tenedos, and know all things, present and future I am the god of song and lyre. My arrows fly true to the mark; but alas! an arrow more fatal than mine has pierced my heart! I am the god of medicine and know the virtues of all ealing plants. Alas! I suffer a malady that no balm can cure he nymph continued her flight and left his plea half uttered. And even as she fled she charmed him The wind blew her garments, and her unbound hair streamed loose behind her. The god grew impatient to find his row aw Cupid, gained upon her in the race. It was like a hound pursuing a hare, with open jaws ready to seize, while the feebler animal darts forward, slipping from the very grasp. So flew the god and the virgin ---he on the wings of love, and she on those of fear. The pursue is the more rapid, however, and gains upon her, and his panting breath blows upon her hair. Her strength begins to fail, and ready to sink, she calls upon her father, the river god, Help me, Peneus! Open the earth to enclose me, or change my form, which has brought me into this danger! Scarcely had she spoken when a stiffness seized all her limbs her bosom began to be enclosed in a tender bark her hair became leaves: her arms became branches; her foot stuck fast in the ground as a root; her face became a tree-top, retaining nothing of its former self but its beauty, Apollo stood amazed. He touched the stem and felt the flesh tremble under the new bark. He embraced the branches. and lavished20 kisses on the wood. The branches shrank from his lips. Since you cannot be my wife, said he you shall assuredly be my tree. I will wear you for my crown; I will decorate with you my harp and my quiver; and when the great Roman conquerors lead up the triumphal pomp to the Capitol, you shall be woven into wreaths for their brows And as eternal youth is mine, you also shall be al ways green, and your leaf knows no lecay. The nymph, now changed into a laurel tree", bowed its head in grate acknowledgment NOTES30 whatever was hidden from view he imagined more beautiful still. He followed her; she fled, swifter than the wind, and delayed not a moment at his entreaties14. “Stay,” said he, “daughter of Peneus; I am not a foe. Do not fly me as a lamb flies the wolf, or a dove the hawk. It is for love I pursue you. You make me miserable, for fear you should fall and hurt yourself on these stones, and I should be the cause. Pray run slower, and I will follow slower. I am no clown, no rude peasant. Jupiter (Zeus) is my father, and I am lord of Delphos and Tenedos, and know all things, present and future. I am the god of song and lyre. My arrows fly true to the mark; but alas! an arrow more fatal than mine has pierced my heart! I am the god of medicine, and know the virtues of all healing plants. Alas! I suffer a malady15 that no balm can cure!” The nymph continued her flight, and left his plea half uttered. And even as she fled she charmed him. The wind blew her garments, and her unbound hair streamed loose behind her. The god grew impatient to find his wooing16 throw away, and, sped by Cupid, gained upon her in the race. It was like a hound pursuing a hare, with open jaws ready to seize, while the feebler animal darts forward, slipping from the very grasp. So flew the god and the virgin---he on the wings of love, and she on those of fear. The pursue is the more rapid, however, and gains upon her, and his panting17 breath blows upon her hair. Her strength begins to fail, and ready to sink, she calls upon her father, the river god, “Help me, Peneus! Open the earth to enclose me, or change my form, which has brought me into this danger!” Scarcely18 had she spoken, when a stiffness seized all her limbs; her bosom began to be enclosed in a tender bark; her hair became leaves; her arms became branches; her foot stuck19 fast in the ground, as a root; her face became a tree-top, retaining nothing of its former self but its beauty, Apollo stood amazed. He touched the stem, and felt the flesh tremble under the new bark. He embraced the branches, and lavished20 kisses on the wood. The branches shrank from his lips. “Since you cannot be my wife,” said he, “you shall assuredly be my tree. I will wear you for my crown; I will decorate with you my harp and my quiver; and when the great Roman conquerors lead up the triumphal pomp21 to the Capitol, you shall be woven into wreaths for their brows. And as eternal youth is mine, you also shall be always green, and your leaf knows no decay.” The nymph, now changed into a laurel tree22, bowed its head in grateful acknowledgment. NOTES