“Her royal sire now with the murm’ring crowd. Demands the race impatiently aloud. Hippomenes then with true fervour pray’d: ‘My bold attempt let Venus kindly aid: By her sweet power I felt this amorous fire; Still may she succour whom she did inspire.’ A soft, unenvious wind, with speedy care, Wafted to heaven the lover’s tender prayer. Pity, I own, soon gain’d the wish’d consent, And all the assistance he implored I lent. The Cyprian lands, though rich, in richness yield To that surnamed the Tamasenian field: That field of old was added to my shrine, And its choice products consecrated mine: A tree there stands, full glorious to behold, Gold are the leaves, the crackling branches gold, It chanced, three apples in my hands I bore, Which newly from the tree I sportive tore; Seen by the youth alone, to him I brought The fruit, and when and how to use it taught. The signal sounding by the king’s command, Both start at once, and sweep the imprinted sand: So swiftly moved their feet, they might with ease, Scarce moisten’d, skim along the glassy seas;