(Greek)
Once there was a beautiful nymph of the woods whose name was Syrinx. She was much admired by all the satyrs and spirits of the wood, but she was a faithful worshipper of Artemis and did not respond to the attentions of any of her admirers. One day, however, Pan met her, and was so delighted with her that he persistently wooed her with many compliments. Away she ran from him without stopping to hear what he had to say, but on the bank of the river he overtook her. Then she called on her friends the water-nymphs to help her. They heard her, and just as Pan was about to throw his arms around her they changed her into a tuft of reeds. As he breathed a sigh, the air sounded through the reeds and produced a plaintive melody. Pan, delighted with the music and with the novelty of the experience, exclaimed, “Thus, then, at least, you shall be mine.” So he took some of the reeds, of unequal lengths, and placing them together side by side, he made an instrument and called it Syrinx, in honor of the nymph.
POMONA AND VERTUMNUS
(Roman)
Pomona was a hamadryad who presided over fruit trees and especially over apple orchards. She had scorned the offers of love made her by Pan and other spirits of the woods, and also those of Vertumnus, the god of gardens and of the changing seasons. But, unwearied, he wooed her in as many guises as his seasons themselves could assume. Now as a reaper, now as haymaker, now as ploughman, now as vine-dresser, now as apple picker, now as fisherman, now as soldier, all to no avail.
At last he disguised himself as an old woman and came to her. He admired her fruit, especially the luxuriance of her grapes, and enlarged upon the dependence of the luxuriant vine, close by, upon the elm to which it was clinging; advised Pomona, likewise, to choose some youth—say, for instance, the young Vertumnus—about whom to twine her arms. Then he told the melancholy tale of how the worthy Iphio, spurned by Anaxarete, had hanged himself to her gate-post; and how the gods had turned the hard-hearted virgin to stone even as she gazed on her lover’s funeral. “Consider these things, dearest child,” said the seeming old woman, “lay aside thy scorn and thy delays, and accept a lover. So may neither the vernal frosts blight thy young fruits, nor furious winds scatter thy blossoms!”
When Vertumnus had thus spoken he dropped his disguise, and stood before Pomona in his proper person, a comely youth. Pleased with such ardent wooing, Pomona consented and became his wife.
Although the god Osiris in Egyptian Mythology has been frequently identified with the sun, there is no doubt that he was also regarded as a god of vegetation. There is a representation of him in one of the great temples in Egypt in which the dead body of Osiris is shown with stalks of corn springing from it, and a priest is watering the stalks from a pitcher which he holds in his hands. The inscription which accompanies this representation sets forth, “This is the form of him one may not name, Osiris of the Mysteries, who springs from the returning waters.” He is often spoken of, also, as “The one in the tree,” “The solitary one in the Acacia.” The myth here related seems to be one of the death of vegetation, slain by the evil Typhon. This was caused in Egypt by drought, while the springing up of vegetation was caused by the annual overflow of the Nile.
A similar myth exists in Greece in which the god of vegetation, Adonis, is mourned by Aphrodite, also called Cypris and Cytherea (Roman Venus), who loved him.