I see Christ eating the bread of his last supper in the midst of youths and old persons, I see where the strong divine young man the Hercules toil’d faithfully and long and then died, I see the place of the innocent rich life and hapless fate of the beautiful nocturnal son, the full-limb’d Bacchus, I see Kneph, blooming, drest in blue, with the crown of feathers on his head, I see Hermes, unsuspected, dying, well-belov’d, saying to the people Do not weep for me, This is not my true country, I have lived banish’d from my true country, I now go back there, I return to the celestial sphere where every one goes in his turn.