"His polish'd limbs, by strange enchantment's power,
Shoot into bud and blossom into flower."
—Ovid.
NE day when Apollo, the Sun-god, was driving in his chariot across the land of Greece, he saw in the palace gardens of the King of Sparta a beautiful boy at play.
No sooner did the Sun-god set ryes upon the king's son than he loved him and desired to have him for his own. He quickly won the boy's affections, and the two were like father and son, so happy were they in their love for one another.
They walked and drove together, and played at merry games in the king's gardens, while Apollo lavished upon the boy gifts rich and costly, for he thought nothing too good for his beautiful Hyacinthus.
So all went well for quite a time, until Zephyr, the West-wind, who also loved the boy, grew jealous of his evident preference for the Sun-god.
He tried by all means in his power to win the love of Hyacinthus, but the youth took no heed, and in spite of the West-wind's gentle words and tender, soft caresses, he continued to love Apollo best.
