Essay --

Daphne was Apollos first love. It was not brought about by accident, but by the rancor of Cupid. Apollo saw the boy playing with his bow and arrows and being himself elated with his upstart victory over Python, he said to him, What have you to do with soldier want weapons, saucy boy? Leave them for hands worthy of them, Behold the seduction I have won by means of them over the enormous serpent who stretched his poisonous body over acres of the plain Be content with your torch, child, and kindle up your flames, as you c on the whole them, where you volition, but acquire not to meddle with my weapons. Venuss boy heard these words, and rejoined, Your arrows may strike all things else, Apollo, but mine shall strike you. So saying, he took his stand on a rock of Parnassus, and drew from his quiver two arrows of different workmanship, i to excite love, the other to repel it. The antecedent was of gold and sharp pointed, the last mentioned blunt and tipped with lead. With the lead en shaft he struck the nymph Daphne, the daughter of the river matinee idol Peneus, and with the golden one Apollo, through the heart. Forthwith the god was seized with love for the maiden, and she abhorred the thought of loving. Her delight was in woodland sports and in the spoils of the chase. lovers want her, but she spurned them all, ranging the woods, and taking no thought of Cupid nor of Hymen. Her father ofttimes said to her, Daughter, you owe me a son-in-law you owe me grandchildren. She, hating the thought of marriage as a crime, with her beautiful plaque tinged all over with blushes, threw her arms somewhat her fathers neck, and said, Dearest father, grant me this favour, that I may always remain unmarried, like Diana. He consented, but at the same time said, Your own face will forbid ... ...ll 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-t op, retaining nothing of its former self but its beauty, Apollo stood amazed. He touched the stem, and felt the flesh reel under the new bark. He embraced the branches, and lavished 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 young person is mine, you also shall be always green, and your leaf k at one time no decay. The nymph, now changed into a Laurel tree, bowed its head in grateful plea