And the selfsame night for the maiden prepared they the couch of the bride {1130}
In a hallowed cave, where of old time Makris wont to abide,
The child of the Honey-lord, Aristaius, whose wisdom discerned
The toils of the bees, and the wealth of the labour of olives learned.
And she was the first that received and in sheltering bosom bore
The child Nysaian of Zeus, on Eubœa’s Abantian shore.
And with honey she moistened his lips, where the dew of life was dried
When Hermes bare him out of the fire. But Hêrê espied,
And from all the isle that Nymph in her fierceness of anger she drave.
Wherefore she dwelt far thence in the holy Phaeacian cave,