A Book of Myths, by Jean Lang - Umnet

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happiness, such as the Olympians knew, or ever having dared to reach upwards and to hold fellowship with the Immortals. Hyacinthus was a Spartan youth, son of Clio, one of the Muses, and of the mortal with whom she had mated, and from mother, or father, or from the gods themselves, he had received the gift of beauty. It chanced one day that as Apollo drove his chariot on its all-conquering round, he saw the boy. Hyacinthus was as fair to look upon as the fairest of women, yet he was not only full of grace, but was muscular, and strong as a straight young pine on Mount Olympus that fears not the blind rage of the North Wind nor the angry tempests of the South. When Apollo had spoken with him he found that the face of Hyacinthus did not belie the heart within him, and gladly the god felt that at last he had found the perfect companion, the ever courageous and joyous young mate, whose mood was always ready to meet his own. Did Apollo desire to hunt, with merry shout Hyacinthus called the hounds. Did the great god deign to fish, Hyacinthus was ready to fetch the nets and to throw himself, whole-souled, into the great affair of chasing and of landing the silvery fishes. When Apollo wished to climb the mountains, to heights so lonely that not even the moving of an eagle's wing broke the everlasting stillness, Hyacinthus--his strong limbs too perfect for the chisel of any sculptor worthily to reproduce--was ready and eager for the climb. And when, on the mountain top, Apollo gazed in silence over illimitable space, and watched the silver car of his sister Diana rising slowly into the deep blue of the sky, silvering land and water as she passed, it was never Hyacinthus who was the first to speak--with words to break the spell of Nature's perfect beauty, shared in perfect companionship. There were times, too, when Apollo would play his lyre, and when naught but the music of his own making could fulfil his longing. And when those times came, Hyacinthus would lie at the feet of his friend--of the friend who was a god--and would listen, with eyes of rapturous joy, to the music that his master made. A very perfect friend was this friend of the sun-god. Nor was it Apollo alone who desired the friendship of Hyacinthus.
Zephyrus, god of the South Wind, had known him before Apollo crossed his path and had eagerly desired him for a friend. But who could stand against Apollo? Sulkily Zephyrus marked their ever-ripening friendship, and in his heart jealousy grew into hatred, and hatred whispered to him of revenge. Hyacinthus excelled at all sports, and when he played quoits it was sheer joy for Apollo, who loved all things beautiful, to watch him as he stood to throw the disc, his taut muscles making him look like Hermes, ready to spurn the cumbering earth from off his feet. Further even than the god, his friend, could Hyacinthus throw, and always his merry laugh when he succeeded made the god feel that nor man nor god could ever grow old. And so there came that day, fore-ordained by the Fates, when Apollo and Hyacinthus played a match together. Hyacinthus made a valiant throw, and Apollo took his place, and cast the discus high and far. Hyacinthus ran forward eager to measure the distance, shouting with excitement over a throw that had indeed been worthy of a god. Thus did Zephyrus gain his opportunity. Swiftly through the tree-tops ran the murmuring South Wind, and smote the discus of Apollo with a cruel hand. Against the forehead of Hyacinthus it dashed, smiting the locks that lay upon it, crashing through skin and flesh and bone, felling him to the earth. Apollo ran towards him and raised him in his arms. But the head of Hyacinthus fell over on the god's shoulder, like the head of a lily whose stem is broken. The red blood gushed to the ground, an unquenchable stream, and darkness fell on the eyes of Hyacinthus, and, with the flow of his life's blood, his gallant young soul passed away. "Would that I could die for thee, Hyacinthus!" cried the god, his god's heart near breaking. "I have robbed thee of thy youth. Thine is the suffering, mine the crime. I shall sing thee ever--oh perfect friend! And evermore shalt thou live as a flower that will speak to the hearts of men of spring, of everlasting youth--of life that lives forever." As he spoke, there sprang from the blood-drops at his feet a cluster of flowers, blue as the sky in spring, yet hanging their heads as if in sorrow.[4] [Illustration: DARKNESS FELL ON THE EYES OF HYACINTHUS]
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A Book of Myths, by Jean Lang The P
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and lost its beauty, there yet rema
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in any language. The writer will fe
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PYGMALION 11 PHAETON 16 ENDYMION 26
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Thus did Psyche lose her fear, and
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that was to be his heritage. Promet
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(Afterthought). For Epimethus it wa
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endure the torment of having a foul
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most perfect semblance of men and o
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had made sacred to Galatea. On the
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But at last she said to him, "Naugh
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From the courtyard of the Palace th
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wrought. That blazing chariot of th
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suburban garden. That unlettered sp
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[Illustration: SHE CHECKED HER HOUN
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deep, hidden meaning in each part o
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permission he sought, but solemnly
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night, but as that of evening when
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When the quest of the Argonauts was
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But as the first fierce storm that
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Once upon a time, so goes the tale,
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which the fame of the fair Psyche h
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arren rocks, the utter forsakenness
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deny anything to Psyche, and on the
Page 49 and 50: As a martyr walks to death, so did
Page 51 and 52: sprang from the high cliff on which
Page 53 and 54: And again the reeds murmured, "Bewa
Page 55 and 56: "Oh, foolish one," it said, "why do
Page 57 and 58: its ugly tomb in the dark soil, and
Page 59 and 60: and found, amazed, a fearless, whit
Page 61 and 62: "Aimed on the left side his well-ha
Page 63 and 64: ATALANTA Atalanta, daughter of the
Page 65 and 66: thou dost race with me, the goal is
Page 67 and 68: To Pallas Athené, goddess of craft
Page 69 and 70: them with pictures such as no skill
Page 71 and 72: shall fall--for oft by weathers tha
Page 73 and 74: dallying with Idas in the shadowy w
Page 75 and 76: of her dreams, his voice was as the
Page 77 and 78: were life to one whose beauty had w
Page 79 and 80: overshadowed by the past, and even
Page 81 and 82: "And now from their fountains In En
Page 83 and 84: daily had to face, sailed the seas
Page 85 and 86: came empty-handed, and as he stood
Page 87 and 88: But Athené said Nay, at his mother
Page 89 and 90: "but no mortal can obtain it, for o
Page 91 and 92: living as that of a flower in sprin
Page 93 and 94: wife. No marriage feast so splendid
Page 95 and 96: "Surely this stranger comes from Ol
Page 97 and 98: sons, and each son is more than the
Page 99: But the gods laughed. Like a harsh
Page 103 and 104: This is the story of Midas, one of
Page 105 and 106: But when Midas, with the healthy ap
Page 107 and 108: First of all Pan took his fragile r
Page 109 and 110: hiding-place. The trees and shrubs
Page 111 and 112: For the air was full of the clamoro
Page 113 and 114: around the cave lurked the long dar
Page 115 and 116: like a ship driven on by the long o
Page 117 and 118: In the fragrance of the blossom of
Page 119 and 120: Wind and the North Wind wrestle tog
Page 121 and 122: For, from the carcase of one of the
Page 123 and 124: so fair. She had only tasted the jo
Page 125 and 126: she held most dear. "Give me back m
Page 127 and 128: LATONA AND THE RUSTICS Through the
Page 129 and 130: defiled." As she spoke, a change, s
Page 131 and 132: smiling at the remembrance of her m
Page 133 and 134: Grief had slain the body of Echo. O
Page 135 and 136: Fourteen years only have passed sin
Page 137 and 138: at length they looked like the pini
Page 139 and 140: higher, higher still, and when he s
Page 141 and 142: and give stare for stare to golden-
Page 143 and 144: voice sang snatches of song of his
Page 145 and 146: shall not hide him, nor shall his d
Page 147 and 148: whose white arms against the greenw
Page 149 and 150: fashioned for himself an instrument
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spear-wound through it. With terrib
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as she spoke, her tears and his blo
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the river), 'The only way, since go
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at length she stood on the edge of
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and so, by the hands of his river,
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Milton. Pan was dead, and the gods
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unutterable woe upon any of the son
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Near St. Goar, there rises out of t
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[7] Archilochus of Paros. [8] Fiona
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to come was possessed by Beowulf. I
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And Odin, seeing himself outwitted
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oath from anything in all nature, a
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Thus Loki, taking upon himself the
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Matthew Arnold. Gladly Hermoder mad
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were fit to receive him, and peace
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took place those things that are to
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lack marshes, unknowing that in the
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swiftly know whence ye have hither
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Grendel's scaly hide. Up and down t
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win, while he may, warlike fame in
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homeland and had told his kinsman t
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forth scorchingly, and its great mo
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FOOTNOTES: [9] Shakespeare (Julius
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would be allowed to retain his king
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"No one sent me," he said. "My moth
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"I had taken thee for another man,
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Leaving them behind with twenty tho
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comrades whose eyes never more woul
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humbly confessing his sins and begg
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King of Heaven! * * * * * May thy f
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Charlemagne then returned to Aix, a
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their love. To them in course of ti
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what her servants had scorned to do
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he stood, and greeted him in the gl
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the shattered victims of the destro
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Then said her brothers: "In Him we
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And Kemoc answered: "It is truth."
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In many ancient manuscripts we get
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"You will have a little grave apart
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questions about Naoise, she met a s
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delivered his message, and when he
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e alive. We will go with her to ano
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ut on Loch Awe and Loch Fyne, Loch
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But Deirdrê said, very quickly: "N
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the pure sand. O that I might not d
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heart of the king. For when Lavarca
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And Ainle also craved that death mi
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[18] Inistrynich. [19] Dun Sween. [
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133, 139, 140, 141, 142, 145, 164,
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Belvidere, Apollo, 11 Ben Cruachan,
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Cerberus, 34 Ceyx, 144, 145, 146, 1
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Dædalus, 181, 182, 183, 184, 185,
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Dun Sween, 324 Durendala, 276, 284,
Page 257 and 258:
Fergus, 321, 322, 323, 325, 326, 32
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Greece, 26, 71, 72, 74, 154, 192, 1
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Ibycus, 192, 194, 195, 196 Icarus,
Page 263 and 264:
Lebynthos, 186 Leinster, Book of, 3
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Meleager, 69, 70, 72, 74, 75, 76, 7
Page 267 and 268:
North Cape, 260 North Sea, 244 Norw
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Persephone, 80, 161, 164, 165, 167
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280, 281, 282, 283, 284, 285, 286,
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Sleipnir, 236 Socrates, 153 Somnus,
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Tyrian, 86 Uffizi Palace, 124 Ulste
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The author also used alternative sp
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ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.
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This eBook is for the use of anyone
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eceipt of the work. - You comply wi
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harmless from all liability, costs
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Please check the Project Gutenberg
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