But dearly the rash prank his mother cost, Who ignorantly gave her son for lost; For his misfortune wept, till she became A lake, and still renown’d with Hyrie’s name.

Thence to Latona’s isle, where once was seen, Transform’d to birds, a monarch and his queen. Far off she saw how old Cephisus mourn’d His son, into a seal by Phoebus turn’d; And where, astonish’d at a stranger sight, Eumelus gazed on his wing’d daughter’s flight.

Aetolian Pleuron she did next survey, Where sons a mother’s murder did essay; But sudden plumes the matron bore away. On her right hand, Cyllene, a fair soil, Fair, till Menephron there the beauteous hill Attempted with foul incest to defile.

Her harness’d dragons now direct she drives For Corinth, and at Corinth she arrives, Where, if what old tradition tells be true, In former ages men from mushrooms grew.