At each one’s side a tabour shall be slung,
Which, beaten, will enhance the mournful song.”
This said, Apollo wing’d his car again,
And drove direct to where the god was lain;
There he beheld his Daphne standing by,
Still venting forth her grief with moistened eye
(The faithful goddess, charitable queen,
Beside poor Bacchus’ form a day had been):
Her soul was sad, her lips refusèd food,
Yet, like a guardian-angel, there she stood