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Updated: May 19, 2025
'You won't tell me where you will go? he asked. 'Really and truly, she said, 'I don't know. It depends which way the wind blows. He looked at her quizzically, then he pursed up his lips, like Zephyrus, blowing across the snow. 'It goes towards Germany, he said. 'I believe so, she laughed. Suddenly, they were aware of a vague white figure near them. It was Gerald.
Soft and sacred will we name thee, Whosoe'er the sire that claim thee Whether old Auster's dusky child, Or the loud son of Eurus wild; Or his who o'er the darkling deeps, From the bleak North, in tempest sweeps; Still shalt thou seem as dear to us As flowery-crowned Zephyrus, When, through twilight's starry dew, Trembling, he hastes his nymph to woo.
All the girls laughed at this, and even Miss Wayland smiled; but suddenly she looked grave again. "Hark!" she said, and listened. "Did you not hear something?" "We hear Boreas, Auster, Eurus, and Zephyrus," answered Old New York. "Nothing else."
Thus poore Psyches being left alone, weeping and trembling on the toppe of the rocke, was blowne by the gentle aire and of shrilling Zephyrus, and carried from the hill with a meek winde, which retained her garments up, and by little and little bought her downe into a deepe valley, where she was laid in a bed of most sweet and fragrant flowers.
Milton alludes to them in Paradise Lost, where he describes Adam waking and contemplating Eve still asleep: "He on his side Leaning half raised, with looks of cordial love Hung over her enamored, and beheld Beauty which, whether waking or asleep, Shot forth peculiar graces; then with voice, Mild as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes, Her hand soft touching, whispered thus, 'Awake!
Then, with voice Mild as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes, Her hand soft touching, whispered thus: "Awake, My fairest, my espoused, my latest found, Heaven's last, best gift, my ever-new delight, Awake; the morning shines, and the fresh field Calls us; we lose the prime, to mark how spring Our tended plants, how blows the citron grove, What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed, How Nature paints her colours, how the bee Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet."
Lucrezia, dying of enjoyment, entreats me to stop, but, as I do not listen to her prayer, she tricks me, and the sweet Angelique makes her first sacrifice to the mother of love. It is thus, very likely, that when the gods inhabited this earth, the voluptuous Arcadia, in love with the soft and pleasing breath of Zephyrus, one day opened her arms, and was fecundated.
But we cannot quote here the fancies of pure imagination, and we will not speak of Medeus the magician, of the enchantress Armida, of the witches of the Brocken, of the hippogriff of Zephyrus with the rosy wings, or of the diabolical inventions of the middle ages, for many of which the stake was the only reward. Roger Bacon, in the thirteenth century, inaugurated a more scientific era.
Plentiful libations of wine, honey, and milk were poured upon the ground, and the mourners smote the earth with their feet, while they uttered supplications to Hermes, Hecate, and Pluto. Pericles applied the torch to the pile, first invoking the aid of Boreas and Zephyrus, that it might consume quickly.
When Psyches had heard these words she sighed sorrowfully and said, O deare husband this long time have you had experience and triall of my faith, and doubt you not that I will persever in the same, wherefore command your winde Zephyrus, that hee may doe as hee hath done before, to the intent that where you have charged me not to behold your venerable face, yet that I may comfort myself with the sight of my sisters.
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