``Be pitiful,'' he cried. ``Forgive me yet this
once!''
``Alas,'' the voice replied, ``I am not unmerciful!
I can forgive! But I have no skill to heal thy
spirit's eyes, nor can I change the temper of thy
heart.'' And then again she murmured, ``Nevermore!''
And after that Rhoecus heard no other sound,
save the rustling of the oak's crisp leaves, like
surf upon a distant shore.
DAPHNE
BY OVID (ADAPTED)
In ancient times, when Apollo, the god of the
shining sun, roamed the earth, he met Cupid, who
with bended bow and drawn string was seeking
human beings to wound with the arrows of love.
``Silly boy,'' said Apollo, ``what dost thou with
the warlike bow? Such burden best befits my
shoulders, for did I not slay the fierce serpent, the
Python, whose baleful breath destroyed all that
came nigh him? Warlike arms are for the mighty,
not for boys like thee! Do thou carry a torch with
which to kindle love in human hearts, but no
longer lay claim to my weapon, the bow!''
But Cupid replied in anger: ``Let thy bow
shoot what it will, Apollo, but my bow shall shoot
THEE!'' And the god of love rose up, and beating
the air with his wings, he drew two magic arrows
from his quiver. One was of shining gold and with
its barbed point could Cupid inflict wounds of
love; the other arrow was of dull silver and its
wound had the power to engender hate.
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