and the growing of the wheat, and her own beautiful mother, Demeter.
Then Pluto gave way.

They called Eurydice and she came, like a young guest unused to the
darkness of the Underworld. She was to return with Orpheus, but on one
condition. If he turned to look at her once before they reached the
upper air, he must lose her again and go back to the world alone.

Rapt with joy, the happy Orpheus hastened on the way, thinking only of
Eurydice, who was following him. Past Lethe, across the Styx they went,
he and his lovely wife, still silent as a Shade. But the place was full
of gloom, the silence weighed upon him, he had not seen her for so
long; her footsteps made no sound; and he could hardly believe the
miracle, for Pluto seldom relents. When the first gleam of upper
daylight broke through the cleft to the dismal world, he forgot all,
save that he must know if she still followed. He turned to see her
face, and the promise was broken!

She smiled at him forgivingly, but it was too late. He stretched out
his arms to take her, but she faded from them, as the bright snow, that
none may keep, melts in our very hands. A murmur of farewell came to
his ears,--no more. She was gone.

He would have followed, but Charon, now on guard, drove him back. Seven
days he lingered there between the worlds of life and death, but after
the broken promise, Hades would not listen to his song. Back to the
Earth he wandered, though it was sweet to him no longer. He died young,
singing to the last, and round about the place where his body rested,
nightingales nested in the trees. His lyre was set among the stars; and
he himself went down to join Eurydice, unforbidden.