[Linuxargentina-proyectos] in her hands, a lily brok

Lun Mar 29 07:31:03 CEST 2010

Th their great horns, are evil creatures that lust for the lives
of mortals, and will slay thee even as thy feet reach the other bank.
Only when the sun goes down does their vice depart from them, and while
they sleep thou canst gather of their wool from the bushes and from the
trunks of the trees." And again the heart of Psyche felt a thrill of
happiness, because she knew that she was loved and cared
for still. All day she rested in the wood by the river and dreamt
pleasant day-dreams, and when the sun had set she waded to the further
shore and gathered the golden wool in the way that the
reeds had told her. When
in the evening she came to the goddess, bearing her shining load, the
brow of Aphrodite grew dark. "If thou art so skilled in magic that no
danger is danger to thee, yet another task shall I give thee that is
worthy of

thy skill," she said, and laid upon Psyche her fresh commands. Sick with

dread, Psyche set out next morning to seek the black stream

out of which Aphrodite had commanded her to fill a ewer. Part of its
waters flowed into the
Styx, part into the Cocytus, and well did Psyche know that a hideous
death from the
loathly creatures that protected the

fountain must be the fate of those who risked so proud an attempt.

Yet because she knew that she must "dree her weird,"
as Pan had said, she plodded onward, towards that dark mountain from
whose side gushed the black water that she sought.
And then, once again, there came to her a message of love. A whirring of
wings she heard, and "O'er her head there flew the bird of Jove, The
bearer, of his servant,
friend of Love, Who, when he saw her, straight
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