XVII.

Now to Alpheus he had driven all

The broad-foreheaded oxen of the Sun. They came unwearied to the lofty stall,

And to the water-troughs which ever run

Through the fresh fields; and, when with rushgrass tall,
Lotus, and all sweet herbage, every one

Had pastured been, the great God made them move
Towards the stall in a collected drove.

XVIII.

A mighty pile of wood the God then heaped;
And, having soon conceived the mystery
Of fire, from two smooth laurel-branches stripped
The bark, and rubbed them in his palms. On high
Suddenly forth the burning vapour leapt,

And the divine child saw delightedly.
Mercury first found out for human weal
Tinder-box, matches, fire-irons, flint, and steel.

XIX.

And fine dry logs and roots innumerous

He gathered in a delve upon the groundAnd kindled them-and instantaneous

The strength of the fierce flame was breathed around. And, whilst the might of glorious Vulcan thus

Wrapped the great pile with glare and roaring sound, Hermes dragged forth two heifers, lowing loud, Close to the fire-such might was in the God.

XX.

And on the earth upon their backs he threw
The panting beasts, and rolled them o'er and o'er,
And bored their lives out. Without more ado,
He cut up fat and flesh; and down before
The fire on spits of wood he placed the two,

Toasting their flesh and ribs, and all the gore
Pursed in the bowels; and while this was done
He stretched their hides over a craggy stone.

XXI.

We mortals let an ox grow old, and then
Cut it up after long consideration,—
But joyous-minded Hermes, from the glen,

Drew the fat spoils to the more open station

Of a flat smooth space, and portioned them; and, when
He had by lot assigned to each a ration

Of the twelve Gods, his mind became aware
Of all the joys which in religion are.

XXII.

For the sweet savour of the roasted meat

Tempted him, though immortal. Natheless, He checked his haughty will, and did not eat,

Though what it cost him words can scarce express, — And every wish to put such morsels sweet

Down his most sacred throat he did repress;

But soon within the lofty-portalled stall

He placed the fat and flesh and bones and all.

XXIII.

And every trace of the fresh butchery

And cooking the God soon made disappear,

As if it all had vanished through the sky.

He burned the hoofs and horns and head and hair,The insatiate fire devoured them hungrily;

And, when he saw that everything was clear,

He quenched the coals, and trampled the black dust,
And in the stream his bloody sandals tossed.

XXIV.

All night he worked in the serene moonshine.
But when the light of day was spread abroad
He sought his natal mountain peaks divine.

On his long wandering, neither man nor god
Had met him since he killed Apollo's kine,

Nor house-dog had barked at him on his road; Now he obliquely through the key-hole passed, Like a thin mist or an autumnal blast.

XXV.

Right through the temple of the spacious cave
He went with soft light feet-as if his tread
Fell not on earth; no sound their falling gave.
Then to his cradle he crept quick, and spread
The swaddling-clothes about him; and the knave
Lay playing with the covering of the bed,
With his left hand about his knees-the right
Held his beloved tortoise-lyre tight.

XXVI.

There he lay "innocent as a new-born child,"
As gossips say. But, though he was a God,
The Goddess his fair mother, unbeguiled,

Knew all that he had done, being abroad.
"Whence come you, and from what adventure wild,
You cunning rogue, and where have you abode
All the long night, clothed in your impudence?
What have you done since you departed hence?

XXVII.

"Apollo soon will pass within this gate,
And bind your tender body in a chain
Inextricably tight and fast as fate,

Unless you can delude the God again
Even when within his arms. Ah runagate!
A pretty torment both for gods and men
Your father made when he made you!"-"Dear mother,"
Replied sly Hermes, "wherefore scold and bother?

XXVIII.

"As if I were like other babes as old,
And understood nothing of what is what,
And cared at all to hear my mother scold!
I in my subtle brain a scheme have got
Which, whilst the sacred stars round heaven are rolled,
Will profit you and me : nor shall our lot
Be as you counsel,-without gifts or food,
To spend our lives in this obscure abode.

XXIX.

"But we will leave this shadow-peopled cave,
And live among the Gods, and pass each day
In high communion, sharing what they have
Of profuse wealth and unexhausted prey;
And from the portion which my father gave

To Phoebus I will snatch my share away;
Which if my father will not-natheless I,
Who am the king of robbers, can but try.

XXX.

"And, if Latona's son should find me out,
I'll countermine him by a deeper plan;
I'll pierce the Pythian temple-walls, though stout,
And sack the fane of everything I can-

VOL. II.

2 D

Caldrons and tripods of great worth no doubt,
Each golden cup and polished brazen pan,
All the wrought tapestries and garments gay."
So they together talked.--Meanwhile the Day,

XXXI.

Etherial-born, arose out of the flood

Of flowing ocean, bearing light to men.
Apollo passed toward the sacred wood,
Which from the inmost depths of its green glen
Echoes the voice of Neptune; and there stood,
On the same spot in green Onchestus then,
That same old animal the vine-dresser

Who was employed hedging his vineyard there.

XXXII.

Latona's glorious Son began:-"I pray

Tell, ancient hedger of Onchestus green,
Whether a drove of kine has passed this way,

All heifers with crooked horns? for they have been
Stolen from the herd in high Pieria,

Where a black bull was fed apart, between

Two woody mountains in a neighbouring glen, And four fierce dogs watched there, unanimous as men.

XXXIII.

"And what is strange, the author of this theft
Has stolen the fatted heifers every one,
But the four dogs and the black bull are left:-
Stolen they were last night at set of sun,
Of their soft beds and their sweet food bereft.

Now tell me, man born ere the world begun,
Have you seen any one pass with the cows?"
To whom the man of overhanging brows:

XXXIV.

"My friend, it would require no common skill

Justly to speak of everything I see;

On various purposes of good or ill

Many pass by my vineyard,—and to me 'Tis difficult to know the invisible

Thoughts which in all those many minds may

Thus much alone I certainly can say :—

I tilled these vines till the decline of day,

be.

XXXV.

"And then I thought I saw, but dare not speak
With certainty of such a wondrous thing,
A child who could not have been born a week
Those fair-horned cattle closely following,
And in his hand he held a polished stick :
And, as on purpose, he walked wavering
From one side to the other of the road,
And with his face opposed the steps he trod."

XXXVI.

Apollo, hearing this, passed quickly on-
No winged omen could have shown more clear
That the deceiver was his Father's Son.

So the God wraps a purple atmosphere
Around his shoulders, and like fire is gone

To famous Pylos, seeking his kine there; And found their track and his, yet hardly cold; And cried: "What wonder do mine eyes behold!

XXXVII.

"Here are the footsteps of the horned herd

Turned back towards their fields of asphodel;But these are not the tracks of beast or bird, Grey wolf, or bear, or lion of the dell, Or manèd Centaur-sand was never stirred By man or woman thus! Inexplicable! Who with unwearied feet could e'er impress The sand with such enormous vestiges?

XXXVIII.

"That was most strange-but this is stranger still!" Thus having said, Phoebus impetuously

Sought high Cyllene's forest-cinctured hill,

And the deep cavern where dark shadows lie, And where the ambrosial Nymph with happy will Bore the Saturnian's love-child Mercury—

And a delighted odour from the dew

Of the hill pastures, at his coming, flew.

XXXIX.

And Phoebus stooped under the craggy roof

Arched over the dark cavern. Maia's child

Perceived that he came angry, far aloof,

About the cows of which he had been beguiled;