Thermodontiaca Tanaim fregere securi;
aut quales referunt Baccho sollemnia Nymphae
Maeoniae, quas Hermus alit, ripasque paternas
percurrunt auro madidae: laetatur in antro
amnis et undantem declinat prodigus urnam. 70
Viderat herboso sacrum de vertice vulgus
Henna parens florum curvaque in valle sedentem
though diverse was her shape—of sun and moon that bring the dawning and the night. Tethys affords them a cradle and soothes in her bosom their infant sobs; the rosy light of her foster-children irradiates her dark blue plains. On her right shoulder she carried the infant Titan, too young as yet to vex with his light, and his encircling beams not grown; he is pictured as more gentle in those tender years, and from his mouth issues a soft flame that accompanies his infant cries. The moon, his sister, carried on Tethys’ left shoulder, sucks the milk of that bright breast, her forehead marked with a little horn.
Such is the wonder of Proserpine’s dress. The Naiads bear her company and on either side crowd around her, those who haunt thy streams, Crinisus, and Pantagia’s rocky torrent and Gela’s who gives his name to the city; those whom Camerina, the unmoved, nurtures in her shallow marshes, whose home is Arethusa’s flood or the stream of Alpheus, her foreign lover; tallest of their company is Cyane. So move they as the beauteous band of Amazons, brandishing their moon-shaped shields what time the maiden warrior Hippolyte, after laying waste the regions of the north, leads home her fair army after battle, whether they have o’erthrown the yellow-haired Getae or cloven frozen Tanais with the axe of their native Thermodon; or as the Lydian Nymphs celebrate the festivals of Bacchus—the Nymphs whose sire was Hermus along whose banks they course, splashed with his golden waters: the river-god rejoices in his cavern home and pours forth the flooding urn with generous hand.