The grain-rich goddess in high woods did stray,
Her long hair's ear-wrought garland fell away.
Only was Crete fruitful that plenteous year;
Where Ceres went, each place was harvest there.
Ida, the seat of groves, did sing[417] with corn,
Which by the wild boar in the woods was shorn.40
Law-giving Minos did such years desire,
And wished the goddess long might feel love's fire.
Ceres, what sports[418] to thee so grievous were,
As in thy sacrifice we them forbear?