"See, by my feet three golden apples lie-- Such fruit among the heavy roses falls, Such fruit my watchful damsels carefully Store up within the best loved of my walls, 515 Ancient Damascus,[305] where the lover calls Above my unseen head, and faint and light The rose-leaves flutter round me in the night. "And note, that these are not alone most fair With heavenly gold, but longing strange they bring 520 Unto the hearts of men, who will not care, Beholding these, for any once-loved thing Till round the shining sides their fingers cling. And thou shalt see thy well-girt swiftfoot maid By sight of these amid her glory stayed. 525 "For bearing these within a scrip with thee, When first she heads thee from the starting-place Cast down the first one for her eyes to see, And when she turns aside make on apace, And if again she heads thee in the race 530 Spare not the other two to cast aside If she not long enough behind will bide. "Farewell, and when has come the happy time That she Diana's raiment must unbind And all the world seems blessed with Saturn's[306] clime, 535 And thou with eager arms about her twined Beholdest first her gray eyes growing kind, Surely, O trembler, thou shalt scarcely then Forget the Helper of unhappy men." Milanion raised his head at this last word, 540 For now so soft and kind she seemed to be No longer of her Godhead was he feared; Too late he looked, for nothing could he see But the white image glimmering doubtfully In the departing twilight cold and gray, 545 And those three apples on the steps that lay. These then he caught up quivering with delight, Yet fearful lest it all might be a dream, And though aweary with the watchful night, And sleepless nights of longing, still did deem 550 He could not sleep; but yet the first sunbeam That smote the fane across the heaving deep Shone on him laid in calm untroubled sleep. But little ere the noontide did he rise, And why he felt so happy scarce could tell 555 Until the gleaming apples met his eyes. Then, leaving the fair place where this befell, Oft he looked back as one who loved it well, Then homeward to the haunts of men 'gan wend To bring all things unto a happy end. 560 * * * * * Now has the lingering month at last gone by, Again are all folk round the running-place, Nor other seems the dismal pageantry Than heretofore, but that another face Looks o'er the smooth course ready for the race, 565 For now, beheld of all, Milanion Stands on the spot he twice has looked upon.