86. 
The herd went wandering o’er the divine mead, 675
Whilst these most beautiful Sons of Jupiter
Won their swift way up to the snowy head
Of white Olympus, with the joyous lyre
Soothing their journey; and their father dread
Gathered them both into familiar 680
Affection sweet,—­and then, and now, and ever,
Hermes must love Him of the Golden Quiver,

87. 
To whom he gave the lyre that sweetly sounded,
Which skilfully he held and played thereon. 
He piped the while, and far and wide rebounded 685
The echo of his pipings; every one
Of the Olympians sat with joy astounded;
While he conceived another piece of fun,
One of his old tricks—­which the God of Day
Perceiving, said:—­’I fear thee, Son of May;—­ 690

88. 
’I fear thee and thy sly chameleon spirit,
Lest thou should steal my lyre and crooked bow;
This glory and power thou dost from Jove inherit,
To teach all craft upon the earth below;
Thieves love and worship thee—­it is thy merit 695
To make all mortal business ebb and flow
By roguery:—­now, Hermes, if you dare
By sacred Styx a mighty oath to swear

89. 
’That you will never rob me, you will do
A thing extremely pleasing to my heart.’ 700
Then Mercury swore by the Stygian dew,
That he would never steal his bow or dart,
Or lay his hands on what to him was due,
Or ever would employ his powerful art
Against his Pythian fane.  Then Phoebus swore 705
There was no God or Man whom he loved more.

90. 
’And I will give thee as a good-will token,
The beautiful wand of wealth and happiness;
A perfect three-leaved rod of gold unbroken,
Whose magic will thy footsteps ever bless; 710
And whatsoever by Jove’s voice is spoken
Of earthly or divine from its recess,
It, like a loving soul, to thee will speak,
And more than this, do thou forbear to seek.

91. 
’For, dearest child, the divinations high 715
Which thou requirest, ’tis unlawful ever
That thou, or any other deity
Should understand—­and vain were the endeavour;
For they are hidden in Jove’s mind, and I,
In trust of them, have sworn that I would never 720
Betray the counsels of Jove’s inmost will
To any God—­the oath was terrible.

92. 
’Then, golden-wanded brother, ask me not
To speak the fates by Jupiter designed;
But be it mine to tell their various lot 725
To the unnumbered tribes of human-kind. 
Let good to these, and ill to those be wrought
As I dispense—­but he who comes consigned
By voice and wings of perfect augury
To my great shrine, shall find avail in me. 730