The nymph Perestere felt his vengeance in a different manner. Cupid was
wandering with his mother over a meadow, beautifully enamelled with flowers
"all fragrance and of various hues," when, in a playful mood, the youthful
deity challenged Venus to see which could gather the greatest number in the
least time. Cupid would have been triumphant, had not Perestere, who
accompanied them, attempted to win the favour of the goddess, by assisting
to fill her basket. In revenge, Cupid changed her into a dove.
The beautiful fable of the winged deity's love for Psyche, is the most
pleasing of those related of him. {79}
The nymph Psyche was one of those exquisite beings, so seldom met with in
the present degenerate days; and even then, so rare was her beauty, that
the people of earth looked on her almost as a divinity, and in some
instances would have worshipped her in the belief that she was Venus,
visiting the earth.
"In her bower she lay, like a snow-wreath flung,
Mid flowers of brightest hue:
Pouting roses about her hung,
Violets 'neath her mantle sprung,
Shedding their light of blue.
"Pillowed on one fair arm she lay,
Beneath her silver veil;
Her golden locks in wanton play,
As sunbeams through the mist make way,
Stole round her bosom pale!
"Falling waters afar were heard,
To lull the slumb'ring fair:
Yet ever and aye, her soul seemed stirred,
In dove-like murmurs, as if the bird
Of dreams sat brooding there.
"All rude winds were hushed to rest;
Only the enamoured south,
Wantoning round her swan-like breast--
The silken folds of her azure vest
Kissed with its fragrant mouth."