“There, too, flushed Ganymede, his rosy thigh
Half buried in the eagle’s down,
Sole as a flying star shot through the sky
Above the pillared town.”
And in Shelley’s “Prometheus” Jupiter calls to his cup-bearer thus:
“Pour forth heaven’s wine, Idæan Ganymede,
And let it fill the Dædal cups like fire.”
The beautiful legend of the “Choice of Hercules” may be found in the “Tatler,” No. 97.
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