Token of Daphne whom thou couldst not thrall,
And Song that hath the sov’reignty,—not thou.”
—J. P. Peabody.
STORY.
APOLLO’S FIRST LOVE.
One bright morning Daphne, a charming nymph with flowing hair and sparkling eyes, was sporting in the forest. Apollo, passing by, saw the maiden and forthwith fell in love with her. He longed to obtain her, but before he could reach her side she fled. He called to her to dismiss her fears and listen to his love. He assured her of his sincerity, of his standing.
“You fly, alas, not knowing whom you fly,
No ill-bred swain, nor rustic clown am I.”
—Prior.
But Daphne continued her flight, pausing not a moment to listen to his plea. Apollo pursued and gained upon her in the race. She called upon her father, the river god, for protection. “Help!” she cried, “open the earth to enclose me or change my form which has brought me into this danger.” A moment more and her feet seemed rooted to the ground. A rough bark enclosed her quivering limbs. The woodiness crept upward and by degrees invested her whole body. Her trembling hands were filled with leaves. She was changed into a laurel tree. Apollo, reaching out to embrace her, clasped the still warm tree and showered kisses on its leaves.
“I espouse thee for my tree;