30
And up green Ida flits the Choir, with footsteps hurrying rash.
Then Atys frantic, panting, raves, a-wandering, lost, insane,
And leads with timbrel hent and treads the shades where shadows rain,
Like heifer spurning load of yoke in yet unbroken pride;
And the swift Gallæ follow fain their first and fleetfoot guide.
35
But when the home of Cybebe they make with toil out-worn
O'er much, they lay them down to sleep and gifts of Ceres scorn;
Till heavy slumbers seal their eyelids langourous, drooping lowly,