But he was not to die unwept. The little birds of the forest mourned
for him, even the stony rocks wept, the trees shed their leaves with
grief, and the dryads and naiads tore their hair and put on the garb
of sorrow. Only the pitiless revelers knew no remorse. They seized the
singer's head and threw it with his lyre into the river Hebrus. There
it floated down stream and, strange to tell, the chords gave forth a
lament, and the lifeless tongue uttered words. "Eurydice, Eurydice,"
it cried, till head and lyre were carried down to the sea, and on
to Lesbos, the isle of sweet song, where in after years Alcaeus and
Sappho tuned afresh the lyre of Orpheus.

But the shade of the dead singer went down to Hades, and found
entrance at last. Thus Orpheus and Eurydice were re-united, and won in
death the bliss that was denied them in life.






MYTHS OF SCANDINAVIA




BALDUR

ADAPTED FROM A, AND E. KEARY'S VERSION