By the slain huntsman bends the knee:—
It springs, a child of tears.
"Then hither, meekest flower!—here blow
With Hyacinth:—whate'er
The legend, 'tis of ruth, of woe:
Companions meet, together grow,
Twin nurslings of Despair."
Anon.
The affection also which Venus entertained for Anchises, a youth distinguished by the most exquisite beauty, again drew her
from heaven, and induced her often to visit, in all her glory, the woods and solitary retreats of Mount Ida.