The silver arrow Cupid fixed in the breast of
Daphne, the daughter of the river-god Peneus;
and forthwith she fled away from the homes of
men, and hunted beasts in the forest.
With the golden arrow Cupid grievously
wounded Apollo, who fleeing to the woods saw
there the Nymph Daphne pursuing the deer; and
straightway the sun-god fell in love with her
beauty. Her golden locks hung down upon her
neck, her eyes were like stars, her form was slender
and graceful and clothed in clinging white.
Swifter than the light wind she flew, and Apollo
followed after.
``O Nymph! daughter of Peneus,'' he cried,
``stay, I entreat thee! Why dost thou fly as a
lamb from the wolf, as a deer from the lion, or as a
dove with trembling wings Bees from the eagle! I
am no common man! I am no shepherd! Thou
knowest not, rash maid, from whom thou art flying!
The priests of Delphi and Tenedos pay their
service to me. Jupiter is my sire. Mine own
arrow is unerring, but Cupid's aim is truer, for he
has made this wound in my heart! Alas! wretched
me! though I am that great one who discovered
the art of healing, yet this love may not be healed
by my herbs nor my skill!''
But Daphne stopped not at these words, she
flew from him with timid step. The winds fluttered
her garments, the light breezes spread her
flowing locks behind her.
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